#Might make their markings match each others more

[kingdontruther]

kingdon soulmate au

langdon grew up knowing he didn't have a soulmate. he was one of the few to be born without a soulmark and he had grown to accept it.

abby's soulmate had died before she met them. they find each other and fall in love, and it's everything he's ever wanted. at first. then they have kids, a bit too young probably and a bit too fast. he's never been one to wait. it gets harder, residency is kicking his ass and he re-injures his back. the pills help.

his marriage is not doing well, he knows that. but he knows that all marriages have up and downs, soulmates or not. he wants to make it work, and he's trying his best to fix it.

and then he meets mel on the worst day of his life. he feels it instantly. something warm in his chest, something he's only felt close to feeling when he held his kids for the first time. it's overwhelming in the best way.

he convinces himself that it's nothing out of the ordinary. sure, he doesn't usually look at his coworkers long enough to even notice they're attractive but he's still a man, and it's okay to feel attraction. it's not like he's acting on it but it doesn't help that she looks at him like that, and that she's a great fucking doctor.

and then robby finds the pills in his locker and kicks him out. he's freaking out bc his life is over and it's all a big misunderstanding and he's not an addict, he's a doctor, a damn good one and he can't lose his licence bc he's nothing without it

he comes back to help out with the MCI. he hears her voice, "you're here!" and he thinks he should not be feeling this relieved about seeing her smile, not when so many people are injured and he's about to lose everything.

it's the end of the shift and he doesn't plan to stick around. he just wants to be in his car, or go back to robby and beg. he needs to leave but he can't go home.

he's just finished yelling at robby when he bumps into mel. she's obviously exhausted and looks haunted and he can't blame her. if his life wasn't exploding right this moment this shift would probably take a toll on him too

she looks so relieved and happy to see him that he almost sobs. thankfully he doesn't, but he does bask in the feeling of her. after today, he probably won't feel like that ever again.

she thanks him for today, tells him that she's grateful to have worked this shift with him. he doesn't know what to say.

she extands her hand, telling him she looks forward to working with him in the future and he looks at it for a bit. his heart breaks a little bc he knows they probably won't see each other again, not after what he did. he doesn't deserve the praise she's given him. she'll probably hates his guts when she learns that he's been stealing pills from the hospital, as she should.

she looks a bit worried, when it takes him a bit too long to shake her hand. she thinks he's about to reject her but instead he takes her hand in his and pulls her into a hug.

he probably shouldn't have done that, but he doesn't have the time to dwell on all the fucked up things he's done because suddenly the warm feeling he felt deep in his chest when looking at her feels ten times more intense.

so intense that they both step back immediately and look at each other, speechless. and slowly he looks down at his hand, the hand that held hers, and he already knows what he finds there: a small mark hiding in the palm of his hand, that matches hers.

today's the worst day of langdon's life but as he looks at her, blond hair shining in the dim light of the hospital parking lot, he thinks it might have been worth it for her.

[lucraven]

I literally can't stop drawing this au it's so fun More Dungeon Meshi x Dr.Stone!

[luvuomi]

✎ . . . ❝ [ amethos but, epic au! ]❞ .ೃ࿐

dedicated tracks: “the horse and the infant” & “just a man”

though strategic in his battle tactics and a master in the art of war, sethos is not one who particularly enjoys the bloodshed and adrenaline that comes along with it. unfortunately in this day in age, not many would agree. for them, to harbor such skilled yet deathly attributes, should thus be carried with pride. only then, can a man ever wish to become that which is greater than himself. this is how many view the reigning king of tulaytullah.

an adversary that is neither man nor mythical, but one’s darkest moment.

but would his fellow comrades still think the same of him now if they saw him hesitating on striking down his greatest foe? granted.. said foe was nothing more than a mere infant.

a fragile, defenseless being he now cradled in his arms, a familiar gesture that brought forth memories of his own child as he looked into their eyes. how could such innocence be deemed a threat by the gods? to be the bearer of such great calamity?

he couldn’t do it. how can when all he sees as he carries this child are fleeting images of his own son and wife.

where as he stands out on the balcony overseeing a once prosperous nation now set ablaze and ringing with battle cries from his invasion, he imagines for a moment that he’s back home in tulaytullah. even after all the years, away from everything he’s known, he can still see the image of the streets below bustling with vendors as they open up shops and prepare for the day ahead. instead of the smoky air, he imagines the mellow summer breeze that travels through the air of his kingdom, greeting him a pleasant morning.

in this daydream, sethos continues to hold the infant in his arms, having decidedly taken him in to raise as his own. at his right, his own son tugs at him, eagerly wanting to meet his new little brother and on his left, is his wife — amélie . her head resting upon his shoulder while tender eyes gaze upon the infant that she of course welcomed with open arms. it’s a distant future but one that is so picturesque, he almost believes it to be true.

but as the infant’s cries suddenly echo out, everything vanishes as quickly as it came, reduced to nothing more than the ashes that fill the darkened skies.

the world he desires is not awaiting him should he go against the will of the gods.

to have sympathy now would come at too much of a cost. one he can’t afford to lose as a man who’s just trying.. begging to go home.

[nanahachi3]

3 am | Riki Nishimura

Synopsis: Having sex at 3 am can be the best experience, but sleeping with your boyfriend for the first time on his bed might feel awkward.

Warning: kisses, make-out, fluff, suggestive

3 AM is such a weird time.

You’ve been tossing and turning on this unfamiliar mattress more times than you can count. It’s tough to fall asleep in a bed that isn’t yours. Lying next to Riki, your boyfriend for the past year, feels a bit strange too. He’s tall and handsome, with messy hair sprawled across his cold pillow, just staring at the ceiling and breathing heavily.

Outside, the rain is pouring down. The clouds have cleared a bit, letting the moonlight shine through and reflecting off the cold floor of his apartment.

You let out a sigh for the fifth time and steal a glance at Riki, who breaks into a smile when he sees you. You smile back as he opens his arms, inviting you to snuggle in closer. He sits up, and you shuffle over to settle yourself on his lap.

The blanket has been pushed to the side, and he’s wearing this loose black sweatshirt that slips down just enough to show a hint of his collarbone. You lick your dry lips, realizing it’s too late to head home after the party that wrapped up at midnight. Riki, being the overprotective boyfriend, wouldn’t let you leave alone, insisting that you stay safe at his place.

Now, sharing a bed feels a bit different since you’re his first girlfriend, and you two have only kissed and cuddled so far.

The rain starts gently, with drops creating a little pattern against the ground, but soon it turns into a steady downpour, soaking everything. The air inside feels cooler, but the sight of Riki’s tender smile warms you up. He leans in, calming the chill, and brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his fingers, sending a soft thrill through you.

“Feeling a bit cold?” he asks, his voice a bit rough but soothing.

You blush, feeling flustered by his gentle demeanour. “I am a little cold, but it’s okay now that I’m in your arms,” you reply, playing with the button on his shirt, caught between shyness and comfort.

“No, haha” HE kissed your lips softly once he started kissing you.

He also knows that he won't kiss you.

He has a habit of hugging you tighter. You moaned a little as his kisses started to get rougher. His arms were snaked around your Waist tightly, pulling you closer.

“You drive me crazy, baby”, He groaned as you pushed yourself closer to him, making him a bit wimpy.

It pains him how you were looking so beautiful And innocent on his lap.

Your hands were tugging his hair as he was shoving his tongue inside yours. It felt like You and his body would become one.

Your tongue touches his trying to match his pace.

The soft whimpers and groans spread around the room.

His hardness was rubbing against your clothed core. You felt a bit weird, which made you squirm. The hotness inside the room was increasing as the rain crashed against the pelt of the window. You continued kissing him.

The kisses started slow, but now their pace was increasing, and you were sure if nobody stopped this moment, your clothes would fly away, and you both would end up sleeping with each other in another way.

He left your lips and gave them a last peck before moving towards your neck and leaving the trail of kisses or the hickeys on them, which turned purple from red they were wet at first, but he was sucking your tongue, leaving his marks.

“Mine” he groaned and smirked against the skin of your neck.

Your legs were wrapped around his torso, and He Was pushing you closer. His hands were stopped at your shirt.

The air was a bit hotter now, and Riki's breath was getting heavier. Now he looked at you, asking you if he could unbutton Your shirt or not.

You gulped down the saliva and felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks. You opened your mouth to say something.

“You are So hot that I will let you make me Juno” You smiled and kissed his neck, leaving a hickey. He chuckled and tickled your side.

“Aren't you a getting a bit bold?” He laughed and kissed your jawline leaving more wet kisses.

“WHAT SHOULD I SAY 3 AM IS A STRANGE HOUR?” you shrugged your shoulders.

HE SMIRKED and brushed your hair kept his head on your shoulder.

“they also say that 3 am is the best hour for sex?”

Your eyes widened. You pulled away and pushed him away from the bed, making him fall on the bed. A thud sound Came.

He was whining and stroking his head.

You laughed and he pouted.

“NEXT TIME, RIKI, WHEN WE ARE OF PROPER AGE, WE ARE TOO YOUNG RIGHT NOW!”

[pininghermit]

Duchess' Consort

Request: Loving your Tropovenia stories ❤️ I got, 'Against Parents'. Would you please write something about Adrian and modern reader with that prompt? 🥺

AN: Hello anon, I am glad you're enjoying my silly little event! I loved writing this and would have loved to add more bg but this event is for short stories so I tried my best. I hope you like it :)

Genre: drama & royalty au ish??

Pairing(s): Alucard x female Reader

Summary: “You will have to be my consort. You will not be given the title of duke. I will be the duchess. Our children will bear my family name. Yours will be forgotten. They will never quite treat you well. Your heritage will be scorned. Your lands will be absorbed by the duchy.”

“He’s a vampire!” your father roars, his face flushing red. It’s a familiar sight, one that mirrors your own anger. Apparently, temper ran strong in the family.

“And he’s a dhampir!” you snap back, marching toward him with equal fury.

The latest argument about your relationship had now passed the two-hour mark. You were both too stubborn to yield, two sides of the same damn coin. Exhaustion tugged at your shoulders, but neither of you would back down. Not yet.

With a huff of defeat, your father finally lowers himself into his chair, rubbing his temples. “You can’t just marry the son of Dracula,” he says, his voice weary but still carrying an edge of authority. “He’s no match for you.”

“We’re in love!” You slam a glass of water back, trying to swallow both the drink and your frustration. “And it’s not like I’m abandoning my duties. I’m still here. I’m still doing everything I’m supposed to. Isn’t that enough?”

Your father shakes his head slowly. “And what?” he retorts, his tone bitter. “Sully our bloodline with a half-vampire? You’d ruin everything. Do not make me regret not seeking another heir when I had the chance. Perhaps I should have remarried, like everyone insisted...”

The words hit you like a slap, sharp and stinging. They lodge deep in your gut, twisting until your vision blurs with tears you refuse to let fall. You grit your teeth, clenching the glass in your hand so tightly you fear it might shatter.

“Worry not, Father,” you bite out through clenched teeth, your voice trembling with controlled rage. “I’ll be sure to have plenty of children with Adrian. Enough that I never have to suffer the same regrets you do!”

The room falls silent, your words hanging heavy in the air.

Your father glares up at you, his eyes hard but not without pain. He didn’t mean it, you know he didn’t. He loves you. He’s just afraid, trapped by his grief and his fears. You are all he has left of your mother, and her betrayal has carved a gaping void between the two of you. Making a weak man out of your father. One afraid of any and all gentleness.

“I will not give up on him,” you say quietly but firmly. “The duchy can deal with it. And if you can’t, Father…”

You take a deep breath, standing tall despite the tremor in your voice.

“Then I’m sure Uncle will be more than happy to step up as your heir.”

Your father’s eyes widen slightly at the mention of his brother, and you see the flash of panic before he quickly masks it with a glare. He doesn’t want to lose you, but he’s too proud to admit it. The two of you stare each other down, both unwilling to break first.

The silence between you is deafening.

Finally, your father sighs, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of years has finally caught up to him. "You’re just like your mother," he mutters under his breath.

“Thank you,” you reply curtly, turning on your heel. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You turn to leave the room before he can see the tears threatening to fall.

Once, being compared to your mother had cut deep. A wound to your pride, an insult whispered in the shadows of your childhood. The woman who abandoned her title, her duty, for the fleeting fantasy of love. The scandal had clung to you like a curse. A  constant reminder of your supposed weakness.

But not anymore.

“There are conditions.”

Your father’s voice cuts through your thoughts, halting you mid-step. His tone is cold, measured, calculated like a final move in a losing game.

“For him to be with you, there are rules he must obey.”

You turn back to face him, your heart tightening. His gaze is hard, filled with the last fragments of control he refuses to relinquish. This is his last attempt to bind you to his authority, to play his final pawn.

And yet, you stand straighter. You are not the child he once manipulated with fear and duty. Whatever terms he lays out, you will not falter.

“I’m listening,” you say evenly, crossing your arms as you meet his stare. You will not cower. Not for him, not for anyone.

“You will have to be my consort. You will not be given the title of duke. I will be the duchess. Our children will bear my family name. Yours will be forgotten. They will never quite treat you well. Your heritage will be scorned. Your lands will be absorbed by the duchy.”

Your voice remains steady, though each word feels like a blade against your heart. You stand with your back to him, your eyes fixed on the blooming garden outside the window.

“It is a terrible fate,” you continue quietly. “And I have nothing to give you. But I promise, should you take this foolish gamble, I will always be on your side. We will be equals beyond titles. Our children will grow up listening to your stories, to the tales of your people. Your lands will be cared for and passed on to our second-born, who shall inherit them.”

You pause, your thoughts momentarily drifting to a dream you dare not linger on too long. It’s easy, too easy, to imagine this future with Adrian. Despite your father’s endless demands, the vision takes root deep within you.

You can see it clearly: traveling to Castle Dracula with your children. Spending Yule together in the estates of your duchy. The dream feels achingly familiar, a warmth you are afraid to grasp.

Still, you steel your resolve, pushing the dream aside as you turn to face him.

“I cannot abandon my duties,” you say, the words final yet heavy with sorrow. “But you can leave. This life... it doesn’t have to be a fate you endure, Adrian.”

The silence that follows is unbearable. It stretches out like a chasm, each second a reminder of how deeply you’ve laid bare your vulnerability. You resist the urge to take the words back, to deny him the choice, to ease his decision with false comforts.

But no. A marriage built on lies and half-truths could not survive a harsh winter, let alone the storms your future would bring. He deserves the truth, as bitter as it is. You were prepared to lose him.

At least that’s what you told yourself.

You had rehearsed this moment countless times, steeling your heart for the inevitable. You imagined his hesitation, the disappointment clouding his eyes, and perhaps even a polite, resigned farewell. You had told yourself that you would understand. You had promised yourself you would let him go if that was his choice.

But now, as the silence stretches and your heart pounds louder than reason, you realize you were lying to yourself. You weren’t prepared. You never could be. The very thought of Adrian turning away feels like a blade pressing deep into your ribs, and you hold your breath, bracing for the worst.

Then he speaks, his voice so soft you almost miss it.

“My mother’s maiden name,” he says, his gaze fixed on the steaming cup of tea in his hands. He does not look at you, as though he needs the space to steady himself. “I want one of our children to carry it as their middle name.”

You blink, stunned into silence. Before you can respond, he continues.

“I do not care for titles,” he says, his voice firmer now, each word deliberate. “All I ask is that you do not take other partners. And that you allow me time... time to learn the ways of the household. I would hate to be anything less than worthy of you.”

He sets the teacup down with a quiet clink and steps toward you. His presence is steady as he takes your hands gently in his.

At last, Adrian lifts his gaze, and you see the depth of his conviction shining in his eyes. “I have no doubt that you will not let me be wronged,” he says softly. “My fate with yours will be one of happiness. And I would be the most foolish dhampir to ever walk this earth if I gave that up for anything else.”

A sharp breath escapes you, half-relief, half disbelief. His words fill the hollow ache that had settled in your chest, and for a moment, the dream you’d been holding at bay no longer feels so distant.

“Adrian...” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly.

“I have made my choice,” he reassures you, his thumb brushing tenderly over your knuckles. “And I will make it every day, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Tears blur your vision, but this time, you don’t try to hide them. Instead, you squeeze his hands tightly and offer him a smile that holds all the love and gratitude you cannot yet put into words.

One thing you know for certain: with Adrian by your side, you’ll be better parents than either of you ever had. With him, the weight of your duties will feel lighter. Together, you will make something beautiful out of all the broken pieces you were given.

“You are a miraculous idiot,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you throw your arms around him. You cling to him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

Adrian lets out a warm chuckle, his chest vibrating gently against yours. “Marry me, maybe?” he teases softly, his arms pulling you even closer, as if he never intends to let go.

You laugh through your tears, swatting at his shoulder. “I suppose that can be arranged.”

[lvl1l1]

Come inside of my heart

domestic life with Sylus; things you do that make him fall for you all over again.

Sylus spent such a long time looking for you and once he found you, things couldn’t have gone worse. The other half of his soul having forgotten him, being disgusted by him and in a state of hurt and disbelieve he tried shutting you out in an attempt to put his walls back up.

After the rocky start the two of you had in this lifetime, he never could’ve imagined being here now, with you. You both had come such a long way, months of yearning and misunderstandings having lead up to the dynamic you wouldn’t exchange for the world now.

You’ve established yourself in his life, left traces and marks in every nook and cranny, and Sylus wouldn’t have it any other way.

You gave him something he never imagined he could allow himself to have, domestic bliss.

This man sees you as love itself, he understands you and truly sees you for who you are, so whenever you do something that reminds him you feel the same way, his heart clenches.

♪ You bring him his coffee exactly as he likes it, without him ever having to ask you.

♪ You lay his clothes out for him before he wakes up.

♪ After a rough week you make him his favourite meal and prepare a cozy night in you know he’ll enjoy.

Knowing, that you have his habits, tastes and likes memorised and that you’re in tune with them gives him the feels. Knowing, that you know him does it for him.

Sylus’s life is fast paced, filled with danger and excitement. Before he found you, he never lingered too long in one place, always on the go, busy building his empire. He didn’t have a routine. He’d eat when he found the time, he’d sleep when he wrapped up his business. So, when you showed up and you two fell into sync with one another, his daily life turned upside down.

♪ When you insisted on eating together, often sending the chefs in the base home so the two of you could prepare the meals yourselves, he felt overwhelmed with warmth.

♪ The more time you spent in the N109 Zone, the more you adjusted your own day to match his. You started taking midday naps to join him in bed when he was sleeping, leading to you staying up longer at night and spending more time with him.

You two had fallen into a pace, lead by your desire to spend time with each other and it made Sylus want to never leave your side.

The twins were Sylus’s most trusted allies, he took them in when they felt betrayed by the world, seeing himself in them. There was always a slight distance between them, yet he cared for them deeply and seeing you show them that same level of acceptance made him think, you were embracing their way of life as well.

♪ He sees the way you check up on Luke and Kieran after every mission, silently checking for any injuries.

♪ He sees the way you always try to include them and make them feel like they belong.

♪ He’s grateful to you, for being a friend to them and spending time with them whenever you can.

The twins love you and you love them, and while Sylus would never admit it, knowing that the three of you get along so well fills him with happiness.

Nothing gives him a sense of peace like the fact that he now has a place in your life. As much as you are a part of his daily life in the N109 Zone, he is a part of your life in Linkon. You grace him with this sense of normalcy that he’s never been granted before in his life.

♪ You bring him, the big, bad boss of Onychinus, along on your grocery runs. You make him push the shopping cart and tell him to grab that brand of milk you get everytime, he reaches for that box of cereal that might be a bit too high up for you.

♪ You’ve introduced him to all of your friends, even if it’s under a fake alias. You bring him along on some of your hangouts, even if you prefer not to linger for too long, just in case.

♪ You ask him to drive you to the gym and to pick you up from the library, you take him to all your favourite cafés and show him the appeal of midnight snack runs.

You’ve shown this intergalactically feared man your world and he can’t get enough of it.

[monster-disaster]

[alien] Bruk'x

alien!Bruk'x x human!Reader Good to know: male masturbation

Summary: You drive Bruk'x crazy without knowing about it.

Bruk'x resists the urge to follow you out of the mess hall and through the long, echoing corridors of the base back to the wing that you and the other humans have been occupying since your arrival. You are always there, always busy with one thing or another. Your work ethic and excitement are like a fire he cannot look away from. Even when he cannot understand your language, he finds himself captivated by the rapid, animated way you speak with your co-workers. Your voice rises and falls in rhythms unfamiliar to his ears, and your hands move as if your whole body is involved in the conversation. Every emotion flickers across your face, so expressive and so different from his own people, and each nuance draws him in, holding him spellbound.

Ever since you arrived on his planet as a scientist, seeking the military's help to explore uncharted territory, his mind has been tangled with thoughts of you. Your enthusiasm and your questions, which seem to never quiet your always racing mind, amaze him. Bruk'x can never quite predict what you’ll ask next, and he finds it amusing. It feels as if there’s always something you are eager to discuss, always a new curiosity sparking in your eyes. And it seems to him that you are always working. He never sees you in the simple, casual clothes the other humans wear from time to time. Instead, you wear black pants, a white shirt, and a matching lab coat that never looks quite clean. There is always something on it, a telltale mark that reveals what you've spent your day doing.

Today, blue stains speckle the fabric and smudge your fingers, unmistakable evidence of your work with the ink-blue flowers that grow in the shadowed parts of their world and leave stains that last days. You even approached him about it earlier. Your brows were slightly furrowed in worry as you held up your hands. Your accent was thick but charming as you struggled with his language. Are you sure it will come off? Bruk'x chuckled and nodded, offering you a warm smile as you gazed up at him. You always listen to him with such intent that it makes it all too easy for him to imagine you looking at him the same way for other reasons. In his mind, instead of asking him about his home and people, you ask about him for more than scientific reasons. Your white, blunt teeth flash in a smile as you laugh at something he says, and your small, human eyes crinkle at the corners, framed by those dark circles that have worried him ever since he learned they are a sign of lack of sleep for humans. It’s so easy for him to imagine that you might be genuinely interested in him, maybe even needing or wanting him.

Bruk'x grapples with the cultural rules that bind him day after day. In his society, it’s customary for females to make the first move, a tradition he can neither forget nor dismiss. He cannot reveal his interest in more than a few kind gestures, and although you respond to his small displays of affection, you do not take it further, driving him to the brink of sanity.

The night presses on, but Bruk'x stays at his table in the dimly lit mess hall, long after his mates have retreated one by one to their quarters or the night shifts that await them. It’s late, and the base has settled into a hushed calm, with only the faint hum of machinery and the occasional shuffle of feet echoing in the corridors. His own duties are over, but he clings to the hope of seeing you again, of catching one last glimpse of you today.

He knows you are likely still deep in some task, your mind so engrossed that you’ve lost track of time. He can almost picture your tired, determined eyes scanning the shelves in the lab, one hand absentmindedly pushing a strand of hair from your face as you murmur to yourself in your own language.

He glances up whenever he hears a faint sound near the doorway, hoping it’s you. You’ve made a habit of sneaking out to the mess hall, sometimes in the dead of night, to find a leftover snack or something warm to drink. He’s caught you more than once, your eyes bright with a mischievous glint as you riffled through supplies, muttering to yourself about how little food humans need compared to his kind, and why that somehow doesn’t stop you from needing just one more bite before bed.

He shifts in his seat, the ache of his long day forgotten as he imagines what he might say to you if you show up. He might pretend he came here simply to unwind, just another coincidence, or he might let slip a small comment about the strange customs of humans who work so late. He often wants to say more, but he knows he must tread carefully.

Soon, his Captain, Carmek'x, appears at one of the doors, which slip apart with a quiet, hissing sound as he steps inside. Bruk'x watches him approach, his four long arms moving in perfect sync with each quiet, measured step. Despite his broad, muscular frame, Carmek'x moves with a surprising elegance, gliding around the tables until he stops in front of Bruk'x. The dimmed lights cast a faint glow over his skin, a deep blue that almost matches the shade of your fingertips, still stained by the flowers you collected today.

The big alien halts at the table, raising one eyebrow in a familiar, questioning gesture. Bruk'x knows that his captain picked up the expression from a certain nurse on base, but he says nothing.

"Everything alright?" Carmek'x asks, his voice low and calm. Behind him, the long, ropelike strands that cascade from his head, weapons than what you and your people would call hair, shift restlessly. The protective plates at the ends click together every now and then as a subtle reminder of their strength.

"Long day," Bruk'x replies, his tone weighted with unspoken thoughts.

Carmek'x regards him with a knowing look, and Bruk'x meets his golden eyes without flinching. They both know what the other is thinking, though neither says it aloud. "Be patient."

Bruk'x only nods in a silent acknowledgment. With the way things are and the unspoken rules binding him, patience is the only option he has.

When he finally retreats to his room, Bruk'x feels as though he has been running circles around the base for hours. Exhaustion settles deep within him, dragging through his limbs like a weight he can't shake off. His mind feels fogged. You are so tightly tangled in his thoughts that no amount of distraction seems enough to get rid of you.

With a deep, resigned sigh, he sinks down onto his bed, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to push the image of you away for even a moment. But it doesn't work. He isn't even surprised. You linger in his mind, vivid as ever. He images your uniform, messy hair, and bright, curious eyes. He can almost feel the warmth of your arm brushing against his as you lean in to speak. Your accent is thick and heavy in his ears. You always stand so close, digging through your pockets for those small scraps of paper you use to scribble down your questions or ideas because otherwise, you forget them within a few minutes. He almost smiles to himself, remembering how eagerly you jot down everything you want to discuss with him later.

Your scent drifts through his mind too, that strange brew you call "coffee" mingling with the earthy fragrance of the plants and soil from his world, clinging to you as if they are a part of your very being.

His four arms lie tensely at his sides, twitching and fidgeting restlessly, not quite sure what to do as his imagination wanders. He can almost feel himself reaching for you, his hands moving of their own accord, yearning to pull you closer. In his mind, he buries his head into the curve of your neck, breathing in your warmth, letting your softness lull his racing mind. He imagines you tilting your head slightly, instinctively giving him the space to press his lips to your bare skin, so soft and vulnerable. It strikes him how much you trust, how effortlessly you embrace the unknown, and how your vulnerability seems to bother you so little. It unsettles him. You often seem so careless with your own safety. The thought of being the one who guards you, who ensures you’re safe, cared for, and treasured, surges within him. A need to protect you stirs within him, an instinct stronger than any he’s known. His hands move instinctively, his breathing deepening as the thought of holding you close consumes him. How would you feel against him? You’re so soft and smooth, so delicate compared to the solidity of his own form. His chest rises with every labored breath, longing coursing through him. If only he could hold you in his arms, feel your heartbeat against him, grounding him in a way nothing else could.

His cock throbs insistently, pulsing against the rough fabric of his uniform, which suddenly feels unbearably tight. Every seam and stitch seems to scratch at his skin, igniting a strange, burning itch across his body. Almost instinctively, his arms move, fumbling to shed his clothes quickly. One by one, his garments fall away until his cock springs free, hard and glistening with pre-cum. It juts out, slapping against his abdomen.

Every image of you that flashes through his mind sends a new wave of need surging through him, making him ache.

He wonders, no, he craves to know what you would look like without your clothes. Would you be like the human women he saw in the images his comrades pulled up? The memory makes his cheeks burn with an embarrassed heat. When they heard about humans coming to their lands, some of his mates eagerly searched for information about your kind. It didn’t take long before they uncovered pictures and videos of human women, bare-skinned and open. Are you as soft as you appear? Would your skin yield beneath his touch, pliant and warm? He growls low in his throat, driven by the thought. His large hand trails down his taut abdomen, grasping the base of his cock with a firm grip. The shock of his own touch makes his hips jerk forward involuntarily. He wants it. He needs it. Would you like him to take your nipples into his mouth like those in the videos? He would love nothing more than to feel your delicate hand at the back of his head, guiding him down, pressing his face to your chest. His mouth waters at the imagined taste of your skin. The honor of pleasuring you overwhelms him. He pictures you arching your back, pushing yourself against him, allowing him to worship your body.

His hand starts to slide up and down along his length, his fingers spreading the pre-cum across his thick shaft.

He wonders what you would think of him, of his cock. In the videos, he noticed how the human males seemed… softer, even at their hardest. His mates laughed at this, baffled at how these humans could protect themselves. Would you be disturbed by his hardness, or would it spark your curiosity as he’s noticed so many things do? A rough chuckle escapes him, hoarse and pathetic. The sound vibrates in his heaving chest. Would your soft hands explore him, tracing every ridge and scar, lingering over the roughness of his cock? He’s certain you’d be fascinated. He can imagine your curious gaze, the same one you use when studying every new thing in his world, directed at him. He would let you examine him, ask your never-ending questions, and touch him wherever you wanted. He’d answer all of them, body strained, tense as a bow, fighting not to snap from the pleasure.

His hips buck upward, thighs hard and trembling as he braces himself on his bed.

Would you let him do the same to you? Would you let him part your thighs and taste you, take you apart slowly, carefully? He’d have to be so patient. He would need every inch of his restraint to make sure you were ready. Patience isn’t his strong suit, but for you, he’d find it. He can picture you pressed against the bed or even splayed across his chest, letting him take his time. He’d be careful and slow, watching every reaction to make sure you could handle him, each movement more controlled than the last.

Since he’s met you, he’s watched more videos than he’d care to admit, scouring for any glimpse of a woman who resembles you, seeking to understand what human men do to pleasure their mates. He'd told himself it was just curiosity, but he knew he wanted more. He wanted to know what you’d sound like, feel like, if you’d arch and gasp when he finally touched you. Would your body feel as soft as those women looked? And how would you taste? The thought of you on his tongue makes him groan, swallowing hard as he imagines your warmth and scent enveloping him.

His hand tightens as he picks up the pace, squeezing every so often to prolong the rush building at the base of his spine.

He would ask you to sit on his face, pressing yourself down so he could savor every inch of you. The mere thought makes him groan. The sound is thick with desire. He is a sergeant, used to commands and obedience, and he would gladly submit to your every need. He’d let you lead, eager to follow your guidance and surrender to your desires.

And when it was time… how would you want him to take you? Would you prefer to be taken from behind, or would you want him to press you against the wall, holding you in place as he pounded into you? Or maybe, you’d want to ride him, allowing him to watch every expression cross your face, every bounce of your body, each gasp you’d make. He imagines the feel of your body; tight and wet, gripping him so perfectly, pulling every ounce of his essence from him as though you couldn’t bear to let him go. He’d give you everything he had, and after that, no other male would ever be enough.

His jaw clenches, his teeth grinding as the edge nears, imagining how you’d feel wrapped around him, tight and hot, squeezing every drop out of him. He’d make sure to give you everything, to show you that no other could satisfy you the way he could. No other man would ever compare; he would make sure of that.

Would you bite him, marking him with your blunt, human teeth? He hopes so. He imagines your teeth sinking gently into his neck, marking him, or your nails scratching down his back, leaving a trail of evidence that he’d carry with pride. Would you even be able to draw blood? The thought alone nearly undoes him.

His hand moves faster, hips thrusting up as he chases his release. His imagination runs wild, painting vivid scenes of you in every position. You’re breathless, naked, and beautiful in each one. The vision is too much. His release crashes over him like a wave as a hoarse shout tears from his throat. The sound is raw and guttural. His body convulses, muscles tightening and shivering as his climax pulses through him. Thick ropes of his cum spill over his hand and across his abdomen, leaving him a panting, trembling mess. He keeps thrusting into his grip until he can’t bear it anymore, finally collapsing back against the bed, every ounce of strength spent.

It takes Bruk'x a long time to gather himself, his body heavy and his mind muddled. The satisfaction he felt moments ago has already faded, replaced by the gnawing frustration that seems to cling to him no matter what he does. It drives him to madness, a helpless ache that no release can seem to soothe.

He sighs and prepares to return to bed, hoping that sleep will come, but his thoughts are interrupted by a loud, insistent knock on his door. He frowns, annoyance tugging at his expression when the knock echoes again, followed by a familiar voice.

"Captain?" Bruk'x calls, swinging the door open to reveal the other alien standing there.

Both of them look disheveled, faces flushed and breathless, but neither of them acknowledges it.

Carmek'x gaze is intense. "Forget patience," he says. His voice is clipped and direct.

Bruk'x stares, confused. "What?"

"Human women," his captain explains, his tone laced with frustration and perhaps a touch of irritation. "They work in different ways. Patience be damned."

_

You can dive into Carmek'x's story and explore many others I've shared throughout the year on my Patreon, with even more exciting content coming this month.

[angelltheninth]

Hi just wanted to say that I love reading your invincible fics !! If your still accepting requests; would it be ok if I request dating hcs on Mark , Eve and Rex please 🙏 (separate if possible) love them so much (reader I’m fine with female or gn ^^)

I love those three too! I will gladly accept your request.

Pairing: Mark Grayson, Eve Wilkins, Rex Sloan x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, dating, kissing, flying, power use, flirting, banter, established relationship, superheroes

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Dating one of them would be great, but imagine dating all three?!

The best boyfriend you could ask for, will take care of you no matter what you need

More on the shy side when you first begin your relationship and easily flustered

You have to be the one to kiss him first, he doesn't exactly have a lot experience with dating

Always got tongue tied around pretty women and you are no exception even after you begin dating

Uses his powers to impress you, or tries to impress you, but he almost crashes into a building because he was too busy flirting with you to notice it

Happy to be affectionate in public, always holds your hand while you walk together

Stays up late to talk to you, Mark is pretty stubborn when it comes to ending the call first

Listens to your heartbeat from far away because it helps him relax and puts him to sleep easier

His phone is filled with pictures of you in various outfits, some of which you bought on your dates, others that you had in your closet and sent pictures to him

The best kinds of dates are the nightly flights he takes you on, high above the city, somewhere private, there are so many romantic spots to explore around the world

Eve compliments you a lot before and after you begin dating, that and affectionate touching are how she expresses her love the most

When she wants to kiss you and you're on the other side of the room she floats right next to you and plants a quick kiss on your cheek right before moving away

If you want to kiss her back you're gonna have to catch her first, which might prove a bit of challenge but the reward will be worth it

Kisses your hand a lot and enjoys the way it makes you blush, you're like a pretty princess

Doesn't let anything interrupt your cuddling sessions and if there's anything either of you need to grab she will levitate it within arms reach

Loves helping you with your makeup and buying you makeup and various accessories, most of them matching

Not shy about taking showers together when either of you spends the night at the others place

Absolutely melts on the inside when she wakes up and sees that you cooked her favorite food to make her feel better when she had a bad night or a bad mission

Hugs you tight when you sleep next to each other, kissing your forehead before she fully falls asleep

On your anniversaries she always tries to come up with something new and fun for the two of you to do together

Big flirt compared to your previous boyfriends and will use any chance to make you blush

Can be the big spoon or the little spoon, it doesn't make much difference to Rex as long as he gets to hold you in his arms all night long

Enjoys leaving kiss marks and bite marks on you, grinning like a lovesick fool when he sees them on you while you're getting dressed

Kisses you in front of his friends and teammates when ever he gets the chance

When it's your anniversary he makes his own fireworks, maybe slightly less flashy but he wants you to see the effort he put in

Gets slightly jealous when he sees other heroes trying to flirt with you

Often works out in front of you since he knows you enjoy seeing his muscles, and the occasional invitation to get into the shower with him after he's done

Huge fan of sleeping over at your place and leaving his clothes there, but he pretends he does it on accident

Actually he does that specifically to see how you're wearing his clothes more and more, during the day and when you're going to sleep, wearing one of his shirts

Instead of just kissing you he will often instigate a long make out session, he can't keep his hands off a pretty girl like you

[writers-potion]

Storyediting Questions to Ask

As You Read the First Draft:

Are there place that surprised you as you read your first draft? - Why do you suppose that is? - Is there material there you'd like to expand?

What are the character really doing in this story? - Might they have issues you haven't explored fully yet?

Look to the places that drag. - These might be scenes where you have avoided dealing with something deeper. - What are the characters really thinking in these places? - What are their passions, frustrations, and desires?

Imagine alternative plotlines. - How might your plot be different if ti headed off on another tangent from various points in the story? - You don't have to follow them, but they might suggest other streams that can flow into the main plot.

Think About Structure:

Does you story play out naturally in three acts?

Is there an immediate disturbance to the Lead's world?

Does the first doorway of no return occur before the one-fifth mark?

Are the stakes being raised sufficiently?

Does the second doorway of no return put the Lead on the path to the climax?

Does the rhythm of the sotyr match your intent? If this is an action novel, does the plot move relentlessly forward? If this is a character-driven novel, do the scenes delve deeply enough?

Are there strongly motivated characters?

Have coincidence been established?

Is something happeing immediately at the beginning? Did you establish a person in a setting with a problem, onfronted with change or threat?

Is the timeline logical?

Is the story too predictable in terms of sequence? Should it be rearranged?

About Your Lead Character:

Is the character memorable? Compelling? Enough to carry a reader all the way through the plot?

A lead character has to jump off the page. Does yours?

Does this character avoid cliches? Is he capable of surprising us?

What's unique about the character?

Is the character's objective strong enough?

How does the character grow over the course of the story?

How does the character demonstrate inner strength?

About Your Opposition:

Is your oppositing character interesting?

Is he fully realized, not just a cardboard cutout?

Is he justified (at least in his own mind) in his actions?

Is he believable?

Is he strong as or stronger than the Lead?

About Your Story's Adhesive Nature:

Is the conflcit between the Lead and opposition crucial for both?

Why can't they just walk away? What holds them together?

About Your Scene:

Are the big scenes big enough? Surprising enough? Can you make them more original, unanticipated, and draw them out for all they are worth?

Is there enough conflict in the scenes?

What is the least memorable scene? Cut it!

What else can be cut in order to move the story relentlessly forward?

Does the climactic scene come too fast (through a writer fatigue)? Can you make it more, write it for all it's worth?

Does we need a new minor subplot to build up a saggin midsection?

About Your Minor Characters:

What is their purpose in the plot?

Are they unique and colorful?

Polishing Questions:

Are you hooking the reader from the beginning?

Are suspenseful scenes drawn out for the ultimate tension?

Can any information be delayed? This creates tension in the reader, always a good thing.

Are there enough surprises?

Are character-reaction scenes deep and interesting?

Read chapter ending for read-on prompts

Are there places you can replace describing how a character feels with actions?

Do I use visual, sensory-laden words?

For a Dialogue Read-Through:

Dialogue is almost always strengthened by cutting words within the lines.

In dialogue, be fair to both sides. Don't give one character all the good lines.

Greate dialogue surprises the reader and creates tension. View it like a game, where the players are trying to outfox each other.

Can you get more conflict into dialogue, even emong allies?

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[iinsertblognamee]

kiss me, please?

summary; alexia doesn't really do PDA, but she might make an exception for you.  pairing; alexia putellas x footballer!reader spanish | english translation

The first time you noticed was after your win against Levante UD Femenino. You had managed to score two of the seven goals throughout the match. The final whistle blew as the crowd went wild, Ona pulling you into her embrace as the two of you cheered with the surrounding atmosphere. Other teammates made their way into your embrace, congratulating each other with kisses on the cheeks and pats on their backs.

"Creo que alguien te está esperando" 'I think someone is waiting for you' Aitana giggles into your ear, pushing you towards the friends and family section seating section. The celebrations continued around you, as you made your way towards the cheering crowds - giving waves to fans before coming face-to-face with Alexia and Mapi. The younger woman pulls you into her embrace as she plants kisses all over your cheeks. Congratulating you over and over again.

"Gracias Mapi" 'Thank you Mapi' You laugh out, pushing yourself out of her embrace and wiping your face dramatically as she sticks her tongue out at you. Ingrid manages to join your little huddle, taking her girlfriend's attention off you as you make eye contact with your captain.

"Hola bebé" 'Hi baby' your words much softer than your conversation with Mapi, a shy smile playing on your lips as you take in your girlfriend. She pulls you in a small hug, a small tap felt at the back of your head before she pulls away.

"hola mi bella dama" 'Hello my beautiful lady' the pet name heats your cheeks up, Mapi pretending to hurl as Alexia scoffs and (softly) pushes Mapis's head in the other direction. You take notice of the pink blush covering your girlfriend's cheeks, and the small frown appearing on her eyebrows as she looks around the surrounding areas before her attention falls back to you.

You know your relationship was fairly new, not even hitting the six-month mark just yet but the pair of you had been friends since you signed for Barcelona two years ago. You could read Alexia like an open book, and you knew she was feeling on edge. Taking hold of Alexia's hands that were holding the barricade, you gave them a slight squeeze - trying to help her calm down just a little.

"The girls wanna go out and celebrate the win tonight" You start, trying to grab Alexia's attention once again, she gives a small hum in response. A clear indication she was only half listening to what you were saying.

"I think it'd be fun if you came with me?"

"No sé. I don't know if I'd be much fun mi amor" 'I don't know. I don't know if I'd be much fun, my love' She responds back, the frown only growing further. You wanted to run your fingers along her eyebrows, removing the tension appearing on her face. You don't, instead you pout your lips as you pull the best puppy dog eyes you could master.

"Por favor" 'Please'

You know you've hit the jackpot as a small smile appears on her lips once more, her eyes rolling back as she shakes her head. "Okay! Okay. But only to watch over you and keep you protected from Mapi"

The jab at the tattooed lady next to you takes offence, giving Alexia a slight push before crossing her arms and pouting "Soy una gran influencia!" 'I am a great influence!'. Alexia snorts but doesn't give her best friend any form of response.

"I think that's a great idea" you mumble soft enough for Alexia to catch what you are saying, but your words become lost on Mapi's.

Alexia's guard finds its way back up once fans start calling out for you in the next section over, she gives you one last squeeze before letting go of your hand and creating some distance between the pair of you.

"Ve a saludar amor, te veré en el vestuario." 'Go say hi love, I'll meet you down in the locker room'

Ingrid takes your hand from your girlfriends, pulling you away from the barricade and towards the screaming fans, both of you signing items and taking photos over the next couple of minutes.

As much as you tried to forget the shift in Alexia's actions, you couldn't help but feel a little pushed aside. Alexia had never been one to shy away from affection, you weren't sure if it was just a Spanish thing or an Alexia thing, but from day one she had always managed to be touching you in some way. A tap at the back of your head, an arm wrapped around your waist, a leg pressed up against yours - you were no stranger to Alexia's physical touches.

You let yourself believe it was just the fact that your relationship was still fresh. The move from being friends to more only official as of four months ago.

It had been after one of your matches, the defence clearly picking on you throughout the game - although you weren't backing down which had led to you being subbed off just before the 80th minute. A late-timed (or perfectly timed depending on who you asked) tackle from the opposing team landed you on the ground gripping onto your ankle.

You had been led down the tunnel, towards the designated medical room, a physio waiting for you - alongside a fuming Alexia. Her arms were crossed, and a firey look flashed across her eyes as she watched every wince and jump you gave out as you got assessed.

The physio diagnosed you with deep bruising but nothing that couldn't be fixed with some rest and strength training over the next two weeks. The door hadn't even closed completely before Alexia was yelling at you in Spanish. Her arms flew in the air as she walked back and forth, her attention would fall you on every once and a while before it dropped down to your iced ankle before she started all over again.

You could make out the jiff of what she was ranting about, but your attempt to answer her questions was blocked, as she would ask another question before answering it for herself.

It wasn't until about five minutes later that she finally stood firm in her place, her arms hanging by her sides as she looked at her once again.

"What were you thinking? Getting yourself injured like that!"

You blamed it on the fact that you had just played a rough 80 minutes, your arms now crossed across your body as you let out a scoff - you felt like a child getting scolded by their parents.

"I didn't do it on purpose, Alexia! I was playing the game, that's it. I can't help that they were targeting me"

Her eyes flashed with something that definitely wasn't anger, her lips suddenly on yours, as she pushed you back into the bed you were sitting on.

It wasn't until Ona and Lucy had come to check on you after the game finished that the two of you broke away from each other.

The club is up and pumping by the time you make it through its doors. Mapi hand-in-hand with you, Alexia and Ingrid trailing behind. Shots are pushed into your hands before you can make your way around to say hello to everyone, a countdown is yelled before you drown the shot.

An hour or two flew by, Ona, Claudia and Patri were dancing with you, the music completely in Spanish but at this point, you couldn't really care. You felt one of the girl's hands on your waist, spinning you around before attempting to dip you. A small squeal left your lips before followed by laughter pulling yourself up to their chest and yelling that you were grabbing a seat and getting some water.

The table booked out for the team is half empty, Lucy is in a deep conversation with Frido and Keira, Marta laughing with Ingrid at something Mapi said - and your girlfriend sitting, watching over the table with a glass of water in her hand.

"Hola ladies!" 'Hello Ladies' You announce, squeezing yourself onto Alexia's lap - kissing her cheek before taking the glass of water out of her grip and up to her lips. Too busy with the glass in your hand, you miss the kissy faces Mapi makes towards Alexia, teasing her best friend. Alexia seemed to tense up, her grip around your waist tightened enough for you to turn your attention towards her and her red cheeks.

"Are you okay?" you ask, tilting your head a little to get a better look at your girlfriend's face.

"si, yo solo..." 'yeah, i just...' she trails off, her eyes flicking to the group surrounding the pair of you before it clicks.

"You don't like PDA?"

She seems to physically relax when she realises you understand her discomfort, the tension that had been present now non-existent. A little shy smile appears on her lips before her head hides in the crook of your neck. You feel her lips plant a small, hidden kiss on your shoulder before she brings her attention back to you.

"Not really. I just... no sé. I just don't like the idea of people watching us... be like that. Only I get to see you like that" 'I don't know'

You can't help but feel yourself fall just a little more in love with the Spanish woman in front of you, a smile growing on your lips as you throw your arms around her neck. Your lips trace her ear before you mutter "But what if I can't help myself?"

You almost freeze at the sound of a moan slipping from her lips, low enough that only you can hear - but it still has the same effect. "mi amor" 'my love' she warns, and you swear you see her swallow before her gaze is directly on you. "Please don't"

You want to push and see how far you can go before she snaps but you also want to enjoy the rest of the night out with the girls. Ultimately, you give her a small nod before shifting yourself off her lap and into the free spot next to her.

You don't miss the smile on her lips, nor do you miss the dark look in her eyes. Her body reaches over you, as she grabs the glass in your hand - her mouth right next to your neck before she whispers "Later"

You notice the change slowly, the way that she would hold your hand just a little longer before pulling away or when she would congratulate you at the end of games her lips linger against your cheek as her hands held onto your waist.

It wasn't until her first game back since her injury, you cheered alongside the crowds as she made her way back onto the playing field and again when she scored her first since being back. The whistle signifies the end of the match, and before you can turn your attention towards your girlfriend her arms wrapped around your body. Pulling up into her embrace as she brings her lips to yours.

"I thought you didn't like PDA?" you ask onto her lips, smiles matching one another.

"Just shut up and kiss me"

You didn't need to be told twice.

[himasgod]

Morax x Reader

Where your soulmark will unite you to him forever and ever, but you cannot be with him.

Where Guizhong, in her infatuation with Morax, casts a spell on him to make him forget his soulmark that binds you, an adepti, to him, and he falls in love with Guizhong. Years later, when Guizhong dies, Morax takes importance to you and tries to get back to you, but you, hurt, reject him and forget him. Many centuries later, Xiao, Traveler and Paimon have a single mission during the Moonchase Festival: to reunite you and Zhongli after so long.

(chat, did I cook? Seriously, this might be my favorite thing I've ever written on Tumblr. Around 900 words, give it a chance, I promise it'll be worth it :P)

In Teyvat, Soulmate Marks were more than just marks on the skin; they were a shared destiny, a divine promise that no matter the adversities, two souls were destined to meet and complete each other. To mortals, it was a comfort. To gods, it was a reminder that even they were bound by the universal laws of love.

Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust, had always been a visionary. Her intelligence and charisma had cemented Guili Assembly as a haven of prosperity and harmony. But deep within her heart was a desperate longing: to win the heart of the Geo Archon, Morax. Ever since she met him, she had been convinced that her place was at his side, not just as an ally, but as his eternal companion.

When her soulmate mark appeared, Guizhong held her breath in hope.

But her mark showed no clue that connected her to Morax.

Rather than accept this fate, her ambition and fear of rejection led her to commit an act that would change the course of both their lives: with a spell of illusions, she altered her mark to match his.

“Love is selfish… and it must be. For the sake of the Guili Assembly, for the sake of our vision, he must be mine,” she told herself every time the weight of guilt threatened to crush her.

Meanwhile, Morax’s true destiny was entangled with another adepti: you. You were a noble soul, whose mark reflected a deep connection to the land itself. Though Morax had never paid much attention to his own mark, the relationship between the two of you had been one of mutual respect. You, dedicated to the creation of medicines and the healing of Yakshas tormented by their karmic debt, had shared meaningful moments with Morax. Yet there had never been a declaration of love between you.

Morax's heart always seemed to be occupied by Guizhong.

You, though wounded, had accepted your silent role. If Morax found happiness with Guizhong, then that was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

Guizhong's death was a devastating blow to the Guili Assembly and, apparently, to Morax. For years, the Geo Archon mourned her loss, immortalizing her memory in the ruins of Guili. But deception cannot remain hidden forever. As time passed, the spell that had altered Moraxs mark dissipated, revealing its true form.

When Morax discovered the truth, an unfathomable rage took hold of him. Not only had he been betrayed, but he had also allowed his true soulmate to suffer in silence while he protected Guizhong's lie. In a fit of grief and disappointment, he erased from his memory any vestige of love he had felt for the Goddess of Dust.

But the truth came at a price: how to face you after so many years of indifference?

You had found solace in your work. Alongside the Herblord, you had dedicated your life to creating remedies to ease the burden of the Yakshas and other Adepti. You had left behind any hope of a relationship with Morax. For him, there was no room in his heart for false gestures or empty words.

When Morax finally found you, he was greeted with a coldness he had never expected.

“What do you wish, Morax?” you asked, not looking up from the herbs you were grinding.

“I have come to apologize. To seek… redemption,” he replied, his voice laden with a sincerity he rarely showed.

“Redemption does not change the past. And your words will not erase the years of silence. Go find solace in Guizhong’s memories… or in your own decisions.—"

The conversation ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving Morax with a weight he hadn’t felt in millennia.

The Moonchase Festival filled Liyue with vibrant energy. The streets were adorned with floating lanterns, tables laden with traditional food, and the laughter of children echoed in the air. It was a celebration of togetherness, of remembering the past and looking toward the future. Among the attendees, the Traveler and Paimon moved with determination, knowing that the success of their plan depended on their discretion.

They had to bring you and Zhongli together after so many years again, and today was the perfect opportunity.

Xiao, who rarely participated in festivities, stood at the edge of the crowd, watchful. He had reluctantly agreed to help, aware of how much it meant to him to see Zhongli and you reconcile. Though his face remained impassive, the Yaksha couldn’t help but feel a certain hope. He had lost so much over the years; perhaps it was time to recover something.

The Traveler was in charge of taking Zhongli to the designated place: a secluded viewing point at the port, from where one could observe the spectacle of the lanterns ascending- so romantic.

Xiao, meanwhile, was accompanying you, who had accepted the invitation to the festival at the Herbalist's insistence, unaware that it was all part of an elaborate plan.

When the two reached the viewing platform, the atmosphere instantly became tense. You, recognizing Zhongli, stopped in your tracks and pressed your lips together. The ancient Geo Archon, for his part, showed a mix of surprise and something that seemed vulnerable, an emotion rare in someone like him.

"I… didn't know you'd be here," you murmured, your tone bordering on indifference.

"It was my initiative," the Traveler quickly intervened, trying to ease the tension. "I thought it would be good for both of you to enjoy the festival from a quiet place."

"Calm down?" you raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I don't think it's wise."

Before you could leave, Zhongli spoke:

"Please stay."

The tone of his voice, deep and solemn, managed to stop you. There was something in it, a sincerity that you hadn’t expected.

For long minutes, you both remained silent, watching the lanterns light up the sky. Finally, Zhongli spoke up:

“A long time ago, I was blinded by my own decisions. I allowed my judgment to be clouded by loyalty and duty, and in that process, I hurt those who mattered most. You. And my mark is binding me to you, it burns every time I think of you, and it has all these years. I know it burns you too. Guizhong moved me with her manipulative fingers, but now that she passed away so many years ago that I can't even count them… the truth of her lies has come to light. And I feel stupid…”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you turned to look directly at him, your eyes reflecting years of repressed pain.

“And what do you expect me to say? To forgive you after everything?”

Your tone was cold, but there was a tremor in your voice that betrayed the internal storm you were struggling to control. “After how you ignored everything I did for you, while defending someone who wasn’t even your soulmate?”

Zhongli looked down, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I don't expect your forgiveness. I only hope that you'll allow me to prove that I've changed. That you'll understand how sorry I am for my blindness."

You let out a bitter laugh.

"You changed? Perhaps. But I changed too, Morax. Or I mean, Zhongli, I guess. Centuries don't pass in vain, and the wounds you left behind didn't heal easily. I'm not the same person who used to wait for you with hope. I'm now someone who learned to live without you, with this mark, but without you."

The silence that followed was heavy, but not hopeless. Zhongli, with his infinite patience, nodded slowly.

"I know. I can't pretend to erase the past or what I did. But I want you to know that I will never stop trying to make up for my mistakes. If you ever decide to give me a chance, I'll be here, waiting."

You looked at him for a long moment. There was something different about him; he was no longer the arrogant god who made unilateral decisions. There was humility in his words, a humanity you hadn't seen before.

“I make no promises, Zhongli,” you finally replied, your voice softer.

“But perhaps one day… we can try.”

Zhongli looked up, and for the first time in centuries, a small spark of hope lit up his eyes.

That night, though you were not completely reconciled, something changed between you. As the Moonchase Festival continued in the distance, Zhongli and you remained at the gazebo, sharing a quieter conversation. There were no promises, only a tacit understanding that time, though cruel, could also offer second chances.

From afar, Xiao, Traveler and Paimon watched the scene, Xiao's heart lightened.

Though he knew the road would be long, at least there was a start now.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[mintyys-blog]

pls pls no pressure but if you have the time can you do a Bayonetta! Reader x mark or the variants or both whatever

much love

HEADCANON | mark variants x bayonetta! reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

Main Mark

• At first, he’s overwhelmed. You’re too much—powerful, flirtatious, deadly. But then he realizes… you’re exactly his type.

• He’s impressed by your abilities and even more by your confidence. You’re not just strong—you’re in control.

• He loves flying with you, especially when you walk up air like it’s a runway.

• Sometimes he tries to fight beside you, but ends up watching in awe as you summon a demon with your hair while flipping off a monster.

“You didn’t need to blow up the whole building…” he said nervously laughing. “Oh, sweetheart. That building looked at me funny.”

Sinister Mark

• The sexual tension is practically its own character.

• He sees you as a rival and a prize. He wants to conquer you, but ends up constantly being outmaneuvered.

• You toy with him, knowing full well how to push his buttons—just enough to make him snap, but not enough to stop.

• He adores your sadistic side. Summoning demons to devour enemies? Oh, that’s his kind of foreplay.

“Try that again, and I’ll show you why they fear the dark.” He threatened. “Mmm… then why am I so drawn to it, darling?”

Shiesty Mark

• He flirts hard, but every pickup line is met with a smirk and a witty, brutal comeback.

• You once paused time mid-sentence, kicked him into a wall, resumed time and asked, “What were you saying?”

• He’s obsessed. “You’re crazy as hell and I like that.”

• He’s always trying to steal one of your guns. He fails every time. You let him think he’s close just to mess with him. “Such a filthy mouth, darling. I like it.”

“Babe, I’m just sayin’—you and me? Viltrumite energy meets witch-mommy? That’s world domination.” He purposes. “Flatter me again and I might not drag you to hell.”

Omni Mark

• Respects your power. Deeply. But your independence irks him.

• He wants you on his side, always. The fact that you refuse to be owned makes him obsessed.

• He once challenged you to a duel to test your limits. You beat him and winked as you walked away. He’s never recovered.

• You’re the only one he treats with reluctant reverence.

“Join me. I can give you control of galaxies.” “Darling, I am the galaxy. You’re just passing through.”

Mohawk Mark

• Falls hard. You’re powerful, gorgeous, witty, and fight in heels.

• He’s reckless, and you love showing him up mid-fight.

• Sparring turns into flirting. Flirting turns into destruction. It’s a cycle.

• Calls you “witchy woman” and loves when you use hair weapons. “That’s metal.”

“You’re dangerous.” He said. “And yet, here you are, grinning like a fool.”

Viltrumite Mark

• Initially tries to assert dominance. You immediately pin him to the ground with a demon heel and smirk.

• “You thought you were the apex?”

• He’s violently in love. You challenge him, break him, rebuild him.

• He trains with you. You make him better—and he hates how much he craves your approval.

“You should kneel before Viltrumites.” He stated. “I don’t kneel, love. I make others do it.”

No Goggles Mark

• Constantly joking, until he sees you really fight. Now he jokes nervously.

• “You’re like if sass, violence, and beauty had a baby.”

• He tries to match your chaotic energy, ends up getting tossed through three buildings. He falls harder each time.

• Lowkey terrified but into it. He isn’t afraid to match your energy.

“You ever think about settling down?” He asks one day. “With you? I’d rather summon a demon to braid my hair.”

Target/ Striped Mark

• You’re the one he couldn’t kill. And now he’s obsessed.

• He’s tried every tactic, every weapon. You just smirk and dance around his blows.

• He starts showing up without a reason, just to see you.

• You keep saying “You bore me,” but the moment he stops chasing, you hunt him down.

“Still can’t kill me?” You mock. “No… but you’ve killed my sanity. Congratulations.”

Prisoner Mark

• You were sent to deal with him. Instead, you let him stew in his cell while you painted your nails with blood-red magic.

• He became obsessed with the sound of your heels echoing through the prison.

• He dreams about you summoning a demon to tear the walls down.

• When you finally visit his cell, you decide to take him with you.

“I’m dangerous.” She laughs, “sweetheart, you’re barely a warm up!”

Full Mask Mark

• Doesn’t speak. But always watches.

• Appears every time you summon a demon, as if drawn to the chaos.

• You’ve tried to provoke him into a reaction. Nothing. Until you kissed his mask and he froze.

• You think he’s a stalker. He thinks you’re divine.

She steps closer. “A little quiet, aren’t we?”He says nothing. But his breathing changes. You smirk. “Thought so.”

No Mask Mark

• Unfiltered reactions to everything you do. “Oh my, how are you real?”

• Tries to impress you constantly. You’re always five steps ahead.

• He doesn’t mind. He’s here for the show. He even gets you popcorn while you fight. He likes someone who can challenge his strength.

• Thinks you are extremely powerful.

“I love a woman who can kill me with a wink.”“Good. Keep talking and I’ll grant your wish.”

[rinnstars]

soulmates!

matching puzzle pieces: mimicking you unconsciously away from home

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, drabble, pro!player rin (after nel arc), long distance relationship, yearning/longing, not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated!

one thing rin has learnt whilst overseas is that you and him might really be connected by souls, by ribs, and by heart perhaps too.

strict routines he’s stuck to since he was just fourteen — wake up, open the windows, take deep breaths, stretching, yoga, mediation shifted in its own ways to accommodate you back when he had first gotten together with you: to waking up and looking at you with the light outside from the windows shining perfectly at your face that makes him gulp a little, staring hard and long whilst tracing your face as gently as possible, indulging in the sugary-sweet moment before returning back to his routine like a robot. its what he’s used to, what he’s comfortable enough, what he knows. and recently, he’s been mimicking you, he thinks: closing his eyes immediately at the bright light in his room the same way you bury your face in his face when you first wake up away from the “bright” lights in his room, drinking a cup of coffee that he swore he wouldn’t drink despite making it for you every morning like clockwork albeit with much less sugar than you would have added, and opening his phone the first thing he does right after it all the same way you open your phone and flash him essentially in his bedroom with your bright phone screen that illuminates the now matching photo of you and him beaming at the camera the day he left.

maybe its rin’s way of feeling your presence in his life now that its back to before he met you — just him and football, wearing a different but similarly stuffy and claustrophobic football jersey that marks his name at the back of it. bitter coffee that still smells like the kitchen that brings him back memories of you and him attempting to fix the coffee machine whilst laughing together, your smile imprinted in his mind, phone screen that still makes him unconsciously grin even though its been months since he’s left japan of that selfie with yours and his cheeks squished against each other, beaming at the camera as though it would be the last time right before he enters the gate to somewhere else that he wonders if you too look at it a little longer before you enter your phone, or hand sanitizer that smells exactly like the one you used to use, and gave to him whenever you two were out together that reminds him of home, reminds him of you.

and he’s sure his teammates dont miss the subtle changes to him. how his diet has changed strangely — desserts that fill his meal and sweets that he munches on in the dorm room that he used to buy from the convenience store for you to eat together in class and then in his room that tastes a little less sweet now that its not from your mouth to his, hotter food that you’ve made him grown used to in contrast to his old days eating leftovers and microwaveable meals from the fridge that still burns his tongue a little, sticking out his tongue as though he’s on field at the temperature even now the same way you do too, picking at his vegetable unconsciously the same way you do before pushing it onto his plate whilst smiling, each pickled vegetable even now resembling you in his mind as he pushes it around his plate. how he’s behaving all strangely too in contrast to the rin who they met just a few weeks ago at neo egoist league — how he’s more accustomed to laughing in the same tone you do, having to cup his mouth at the realisation, looking away awkwardly before being tackled by shidou (that broke out into half a fight), how he fiddles even more with his things than before as though they were your hands that he finds comfort in interlocking and fiddling with whilst lying right beside yours, how he looks a little longer at his phone screen that almost made shidou grab his phone (to his luck, he managed to dodge the attack and not get into a fight whilst in it: messaging you that as though expecting a praise). or even just the way he talks now — the tone and accent melting and merging into yours and his own mid sentence, your catchphrases popping out of his mouth unconsciously like bubblegum that draws strange looks (they dont understand it, he thinks), references to yours and by extension his favourite games and shows that flies by everyone else’s head that he misses your laugh that should ring along with his lame jokes.

and rin’s even more sure that the media doesnt miss how he’s changed from just that few weeks. how his closet doesn’t quite fit him right — sanrio and chikawa sweaters that are both a little too tight to have belonged to him and a little uncharacteristic for him to sport on his day out, silver necklaces that they just cant see the heart of, chalking it up to a new impulsive purchase despite him never wearing any in his winning match, silly keychains on the bag he brings out that catches the camera flash just right into the newspapers. how his last interview went even: seeming more nervous whilst attempting to make eye contact with the camera (knowing youre watching him live), stuttering a little too much whilst answering a question about romantic relationship, how his glued up paper ring catches the whole internet. how his internet presence (without PR) reflects something the internet wants to dig a little more — from his instagram stories about another game win whether that be on valorant or league of legends with a duo with a censored tag (of yours), screenshots of movies and shows he’s watching with the side of facetime featuring your face censored with colour brushes from the tools section, outfit pictures that are first vetted by you and then posted with a uncharacteristically cute water bottle you bought for him as a joke that he still uses to this very day.

its now that he can’t be fully with you that rin wonders if he’s taken advantage of all these years you’ve been there for him, each memory haunts him through his own unconscious movements, speech and thoughts: as though you’ve fully melted yourself on him, your soul and his intertwined and ribs replacing each others: becoming one another. missing, longing is not a strong enough word for it all — heartache when he lies in his bed all alone yearning for your warmth hands that lingers on his body, cuddling him at night that makes him dream of days long after his career in a small apartment all decorated by whatever you want living a life with just you and him, that tightening of his heart whenever he sees you in his everyday life: those red roses that he used to buy from the school shop, any song form the playlist you and him collated that he plays everyday, every second he can, things you’ve bought for him that he’s brought along this practically eons long trip to france, the dryness in his mouth when he looks at your face through facetime: noting every single changes from the way your fringe has gotten longer, to the small leftover seaweed bites form the corner of your mouth, wondering how you were just so perfect in his eyes. its not human he feels: this hunger and craving he feels deep in his ribs, in his guts, in his very bone and blood, every second he counts, every day he strikes off from his calendar, every football match he wins just for a chance for you and him to reunite.

and this time, he’s sure of one thing, no matter what his PR agency thinks, no matter what fans thinks, no matter what the world thinks: rin wants to kiss you, melting his lips against yours as he holds up the winning world cup trophy, in front of the whole field, in front of the whole audience, in front of the whole world — because if there’s anything he knows now is that you and him are one matching puzzle piece, you and him are one soul merged together dictated by the universe, you and him are meant to be: and he’ll love you for the rest of eternity.

[sweets3rial]

the tutor in dorm 24B (II)

part I here

meantutor!re2!leon x fem!reader

summary: friends. sure, friends. only if it was that easy. he was only supposed to be a tutor. but you went too far and you fell for his charming blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. he put you in a trance and now you're struggling to escape from it.

tags: college!au, ooc leon, leon is an asshole, leon & reader have attitudes, tension, miscommunication, arguments (?), dom!leon, slightly possessive leon, degrading kink, praise kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (use safety guys!), vaginal fingering, masturbation, cuddles, etc.

word count: 9.3k

he didn’t understand. he couldn’t understand. were you avoiding him?

your text messages were short to each other, he tried reaching out; asking about your day, asking if you wanted to hang out, and for some reason, you were always busy. you had plans with friends, you had to work, you had to study, you had to go out of town.

he couldn’t help but question who was taking up all of your time? who were you going out with? what class were you studying for?

this led to him not seeing you for weeks. you didn’t read his texts until late at night or you didn’t respond at all. he rarely sees you in class and when you do come to class, you shoot him a smile and walk back to the same seat you’ve sat at all semester.

it was tense between you two he could feel it. though he thought you two were something. as ridiculous as it sounds, he thought you two had something. a connection, a bond, but he probably was wrong. you only needed him for one thing, to get your grade up and now that you achieved that. he figured that tutoring wouldn’t happen anymore.

especially after what happened. he could still feel your skin against his, the sensation and the burn. he could still hear the sweet noises you made, the whines of his name, and the sting of your nails dragging down the skin of his back. he could still smell you on his sheets and as he turned over in his sleep at night, he could feel your ghost laying beside him.

as much as you drove him crazy, he still found himself missing your presence, surprisingly. you made him smile, even if he tried so hard to hide it. you matched him, you could read him so easily. he was going insane. he needed to see you. even if it was just for a second, he needed to feel your presence, he needed to look into your eyes … he needed to touch you.

maybe you two could become friends. 

he thinks he’d be okay with that. as long as it meant he could have you.

of course that isn’t okay, you couldn’t be friends. god, he’s seen more of you than most of your friends have in all the years they’ve known you. you don’t have sex with your friends. you don’t daydream about their lips on your bare skin. you don’t writhe and whine at the memories of them touching you. friends don’t kiss and make love. 

so no, you couldn’t be friends with Leon. you couldn’t be anything with him. it might be cold, but you couldn’t let yourself get attached. so yes, you’re avoiding him. you sent an email to your professor lying about having to take up multiple jobs, you picked up more shifts at work so that way you wouldn’t run into him around campus, and the days you don’t work you’re volunteering. 

and when you weren’t volunteering you were walking around downtown, daydreaming like a girl in love. daydreaming about his smile and his laugh, his long blonde strands and the mark his glasses left on his nose bridge, the color of his eyes, his broad frame, and how he felt on top of you. 

how his kisses felt — warm lush lips leaving wet trails down your stomach and at your inner thigh. his gasps of pleasure, so close to your ear, and the way he held you. you groaned to yourself, slapping your book down and bringing your face into your hands. 

maybe, it was more than one night. it could be the many nights and days all put together in one. all the tension, all the longing gazes, and taunting and teasing. maybe it was more. 

you tried. you tried to push down the burn in your stomach when you saw him, you tried to ignore the way your heart would skip a beat and your eyes would search every room for him. you tried but you never won.

“you’re distracted again,”

“huh? oh shit,” you looked down to see you had put way too much fudge into this little girl’s mocha frappuccino, an entire layer of fudge sat at the bottom while the sides were completely coated. you threw the cup into the trash, knowing you’d have to start all over again.

“if you don’t mind me asking,” your coworker spoke up from beside you. he inched closer, keeping his voice low since customers were standing around, “are you okay?” he placed a hand on your shoulder and slightly pulled you to turn towards him.

he could see the weight on your shoulders, how you dragged yourself around, and how you were always in your own world. sometimes, you wouldn’t even acknowledge him walking into the room. you were either drowning everyone out or deafening yourself by blasting music into your ears.

you weren’t as bubbly with customers and you were quiet. you were always quiet but this is a different type of silence. it was saddening and concerning. you were quiet in a way you kept to yourself and you kept yourself professional, but right now you were quiet in a way anyone could look at you and see right through you.

“i’m fine, Jet,” you sighed, rolling your shoulders — not noticing how sore they were. “i’m just tired,”

“i’ve heard that excuse a million times now,” you stayed silent, grabbing another cup and picking back up the fudge. Jet has been your coworker for a few months now, he was hired around the time you met Leon.

you had only worked with him a few times before taking up extra shifts, now you’re always with him. you’ve gotten to know each other in that time, he’s kind and a gentle giant. dark hair, eyebrow piercing, broad shoulders, and a deep voice. he smelt nice too.

“how about this? you go home and i’ll cover for you,” he placed both of his hands on your shoulder now, turning you towards him while shaking you a little to wake you up.

“no, i should really stay-“

“you’re scaring customers away,” he cut you off.

“wow, thanks,”

a smile grew on his lips and you were practically blinded by his perfect teeth. Jet was a charming man, customers loved him and he attracted more and more people. you believe people solely came in just to watch him work his barista magic.

“i mean it, go and get some rest,”

you nodded your head slowly, for some reason him saying those words made you sleepy. you let your head fall with a small groan.

“i owe you,”

he gave your shoulders one last shake, “you sure do,”

life has been on repeat for you lately. you kept yourself busy to distract your thoughts. though, over the past few weeks, it was starting to become worse. you wake up, you go to class, and then work and home. the days you didn’t have class it was studying and then work.

it was a constant cycle, you were running in circles with nothing to do and no one to see. you couldn’t muster up the energy to hang out with friends like you usually would, you’ve never been a social person anyway.

laundry was beginning to pile up, friends were slowly slipping away, and grades were gradually dropping — the only good grade you had was in stats and that was all thanks to Leon. but you knew in a matter of time your grade in that class would probably drop as well.

you miss him.

he was a little light in your life. he wasn’t someone who drained your social battery or tired you out. he was someone who brought a smile onto your face and brought color to your plain canvas. even though it was a short time it was a good time.

he was so much more than just a tutor.

the music in your car was interrupted by a notification, it was an email. you looked from your phone and back towards the road. the email was from your professor, it was most likely about your absences and his concern. only your stats professor was this worried about his students, it was endearing really.

a part of you wanted to just drop out of the class. you knew you had an exam coming up, one you hadn’t studied for. everything seemed to just crash down on you right there and then. this is all because you decided to listen to your heart and because you weren’t strong enough to deal with the consequences.

you couldn’t spring back like a rubber band. you couldn’t just-

again your music was interrupted by a notification. you could laugh, “speaking of the devil,”

—

he was waiting for you like an angry father. he was leaning up against the doorframe to his room, his legs kicked over one another and his arms crossed over his chest. he hasn’t changed a bit. his hair was still the same length, albeit a shade darker from it being damp.

he wore an olive green sweater and grey sweats. you never knew how good the color looked on him until now. he still had that glare, though it was chillier than you remembered. you felt like you were doing a walk of shame. it felt like you were in trouble.

he watched you walk down the hall until you were standing in front of him. he took a moment to take you in, scanning you up and down. you were still in your work uniform, black pants, and a simple top. you smelt heavy of coffee and sweets, your name tag still attached to your shirt.

your eyes were puffy as if you’d been crying and they were bloodshot red. your shoulders were slumped and you were dragging your feet. your mascara was smudged, giving you somewhat of a smoky eye. you were drained.

your skin was dull along with the look in your eyes. you didn’t greet him with a smile or a small comment like you usually did. instead, you stood there, waiting for him to speak. it was obvious something was wrong but he didn’t know how to ask.

suddenly, you stop replying to his texts and showing up for class. it was a miracle he got you to come over.

“you know we have an exam in like three days?” he spat, scanning you up and down.

“i know,” you grumbled, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

“have you studied at all?” he drawled out, bending down a bit to meet you.

you rolled your head away from him, unable to look him in the eye. after not seeing you in weeks or speaking to you this is the first thing he cares about. not a ‘hi’ or a ‘how are you?’, that’s right. you two aren’t friends. he is your tutor, he is your classmate, and he relies on your performance because that is what makes him look good.

he has no reason to greet you or ask how you’ve been, even though he was in between your thighs just a month ago.

“are you listening to me?”

“i can take care of myself, Leon,”

his eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened a bit, he was taken aback by your sudden burst of attitude. his glare was heavy and you felt so small, you felt helpless as if you could break in any second and he was picking at the cracks.

your head was pounding, the smell of coffee on your clothes overthrown by the smell of his cologne. he smelt as if he had just taken a shower, you could smell his shampoo and it only took you back to the night you slept in his arms coaxed to sleep with that smell alone.

“what’s wrong with you?” he asked, almost offended.

“i shouldn’t have come,” you grumbled to yourself, turning on your heel to leave but he caught you before you could. he grabbed your wrist and dragged you into his dorm. it was odd, you’ve been in this room so many times yet it feels foreign being in here.

the floors are cleaner than you remembered and it didn’t smell like old instant noodles and dirty laundry. the only thing was all of his clothes were piled on his bed, clothes he’d let wrinkle and sit there until he found the energy to hang them up.

a memory of you folding his clothes flashed into your mind. he was sitting at his desk in the middle of an important meeting with his conselour and you had come in for another session. you were bothered by all the clothes on his bed, the space was already small enough, so why make it smaller with a bunch of clothes?

cleaning was your way to destress, especially if you were bored. so sometimes cleaning his room was therapeutic and it was also a way of saying thank you to him.

“we need to study,”

“we?” you scoffed, “i don’t need your help anymore, Leon,”

“i doubt that,” he shrugged leaning back against his room door. it was silent after that.

you weren’t sure what to say, rather, you weren’t sure if there was anything to say. you two were back to square one; awkward silence and thick tension.

except, this tension was different. it wasn’t the uncomfortable tension that sat between strangers it was hungry. two people waiting for the other to say or do something.

you opened your mouth to speak but all that left was a weak breath.

your entire body was taut and you felt like you were spiraling out of control. the tips of your fingers burned and every nerve in your body was on edge.

“he pulled me to the side after class today,” Leon spoke up, ‘he’ being your stats professor. “he thinks that i didn’t do well with you,”

you licked over your dry lips, crossing your arms over your chest to somehow tune out the sound of your beating heart.

“yeah, he uh emailed me,”

“why haven’t you been in class?”

“busy,” you ran a hand over your head, slicking back any flyaway hairs into the bun on the back of your head.

“you always say that,” he scoffed, dropping his head down to stare at his feet.

“it’s true, i have work-“

“yeah, at a dingy cafe that pays you way too little,” he cut you off. he wasn’t wrong but he had no idea.

it didn’t take you long to realize that Leon never really knew you. sure, he has his moments he reads you like an open book but he has no idea what is wrong.

or he’s too afraid to admit that it was him. it’s him that is making you feel and act this way. it’s how you feel for him, it’s what he does to you and it’s what your heart desires that’s driving you insane.

it’s him.

“if you wanted another tutor, you could’ve just said that,”

“i don’t need another tutor,” you laughed almost comically.

“then what is wrong with you?” he practically shouted. his sudden tone of voice caught you off guard, you finally looked up at him — his eyes ablaze.

he almost looked as if he regretted shouting at you but at the same time, he looked relieved.

“i know you’re not an idiot, Leon,” you barked, “why can’t you figure it out yourself?”

“don’t do that,”

“do what?”

“avoid me! you’ve avoided me enough,” he took a step closer to you prompting you to step away. you were doing it again, avoiding him.

you were afraid. afraid that if he touched you or even was a few inches away from you, you’d break. you were scared that he didn’t feel the same way and you were scared that once he knew he’d throw you away.

you didn’t want this. to feel this way about yourself and him. you didn’t want to feel confused and conflicted. but… he has a way of bringing out the best and the worst in you.

“why do you care?”

“because one night you’re underneath me and the next you don’t even look my way,” he heaved. Leon didn’t know how to tell you he was worried beyond belief. he can’t sleep, he can’t focus, he can’t function. he has so many more things to worry about than you but somehow you’re at the top of his list.

you rubbed your lips together, spreading your chapstick even more. the way he is so straightforward sends you into a spiral, it is like whiplash.

“why did you call me, Leon?” you sighed, changing the topic. you were hurting him more than he thought. all he wanted to do was talk, he wanted to know what was wrong. he isn’t dumb, he figures that you were avoiding him because you slept together. he was the dumb one for thinking you two had a connection.

“we have an exam and you haven’t studied at all, so…”

“i don’t need your help anymore,”

he swallowed a lump in his throat, trying to keep himself from lashing out at you. he isn’t angry, he just wishes you’d talk to him.

“fine,” his tone was harsher than he intended, “let’s make a bet, hm?” he hummed.

this seemed to catch your attention. you looked over at him, your arms still crossed over your chest and a stern look on your face. you couldn’t help but feel intrigued.

“if you pass the exam, without my help, then i will leave you alone,,” you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your heart. is that what you wanted? for him to leave you alone? part of you says no but another part of you says it’s for the best. this is the last exam before finals, so you won’t be seeing him after this anyway.

“what do you consider passing?” you inquired, tilting your head to the side.

“a C or higher. not a C minus, a solid C,”

you nodded your head slowly, looking down at your feet as you kicked away some debris on the floor. Leon was never neat, it kind of hurt to see his room in such a disheveled state. then again, the only reason he ever cleaned was if you were coming over and today he didn’t have time. he sent you that text on pure impulse.

“okay and if i don’t pass?”

“you have to open up to me,”

this is the first time you’ve seen Leon be sweet and maybe slightly considerate. even though he was technically forcing you, he could’ve asked for anything else. he could’ve asked you to sleep with him again or to report back to your professor how much of a good tutor he is. instead, he wishes to know how you feel.

closure perhaps?

you went over the pros and cons. if you passed, he would leave you alone. though you hate it, you knew you’d get over him one day. if you don’t pass, you’ll have to come clean. you’ll have to tell him how you can’t get over that night because you not only felt so good, but it was the first time something was mutual.

you didn’t fuck him for shits and giggles or because you felt like you needed to. rather, it was because you wanted to and because you yearned for it. there was feeling and passion behind it, it wasn’t just dull and unenjoyable. it was good and raw. it was hot and deep.

but if you told him how you felt, would he accept it?

“fine,”

“good,” he hummed, “but you have to show me your score, don’t think you can just disappear on me again?”

—

three harsh knocks on his door woke him up. he practically shot up from his bed, his vision blurry and dry. he blinked a few times, adjusting his vision to his surroundings and his hands searched for his glasses. he must’ve fallen asleep after class, another class you did not attend.

you two haven’t talked since that day. the only thing close to communicating was the grin you gave him when you finished your exam. he tried his hardest to ignore the way his cock jumped in his pants and the way his heart fluttered.

you were confident that you passed, but he couldn’t wait to see your face when you realized you didn’t pass.

another three pounds, “coming! damn!” he shouted out, combing his fingers through his hair as he slipped on his glasses. he was still heavy with sleep and he trudged over to his door. rubbing his eyes, he opened the door and to his surprise, he was shoved in the chest — so harsh that the air in his lungs was almost knocked away.

he coughed with surprise, his eyes shooting open, “what the hell?”

“look at it,” you simpered, crossing your arms and jutting your chin at the paper you shoved in his chest. he sighed heavily, fixing his glasses as he brought the paper away from his chest and into his field of vision. he thought you were being a bit too hubristic but to his surprise, in bright red lettering; ’89%’.

fuck. he swallowed thickly, he underestimated you. he’s proud, you didn’t need his help and passed all on your own but now he’ll never see you again. of course, you came to boast and shove that in his face and you have every right. but you won the bet, now he has to leave you alone.

he shouldn’t have underestimated you. he was wrong to introduce the bet in the first place. he thought you’d fail and that you’d come to him and spill your guts. he knows you’re a person who doesn’t show their vulnerability to anyone. he knows you hate feeling like a burden for relying on others but he hoped that maybe that would change.

no. he doesn’t matter if it’s not fair or if karma gets him in the future. he won’t leave you alone. he can’t.

“seems like i don’t need your help after all,” you heaved, giving him two firm pats on his chest.

he gripped your wrist, holding your hand against his chest. he wasn’t letting you go again, no. it was going to drive him crazy. you may be fine but he won’t be. you could call him selfish, you could call him a cheater, you could punch him and yell but if it meant you’d stay — he’d take it all.

“Leon?” you couldn’t see his eyes. the glint in his glasses and his blonde strands covering his baby blues. his jaw was clenched and he stood there with your test crushed in his fist. his silence was scaring you.

he tugged you by your wrist until you were stumbling forward into his chest. he was silent as he slammed the door behind you and locked it. you could feel the pounding of his heart, fast-paced and violent. the grip he had on you was tight, almost demanding.

“Leon-“

your words were interrupted when his lips collided with yours. taken aback at first, you didn’t kiss back, you were trying to push him away but you couldn’t find any strength. you were on fire, butterflies fluttered in your stomach — causing you to tense up. your palms felt clammy and your heart hiccuped.

you won. so what is he doing?

you pushed him away, his lips leaving yours in a wet smack. you took a few steps back, cornered by his broad frame and the door behind you.

“what are you doing?” you heaved, but your breath was taken away again when his body pressed against yours, pining you to the door. his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing your torso close to him.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled as his lips found yours again. this time in a more gentle manner, yet he was still firm. his kiss was filled with fire and passion, one that you two have never recovered from before. this is true and palpable. it didn’t take much convincing for you to kiss back.

he won, his body heat was numbing you, he was so hot it was almost impossible to withstand. his lips were so soft, slightly chapped and rough but still so plump and warm. you could feel his muscles rippling underneath his shirt as he moved his body with yours.

you shut your eyes and pressed yourself against him even harder. he pulled away for a quick moment, taking his crooked glasses off and tossing them somewhere beside you. your arms flew up and around his shoulders, tugging him closer.

his lips met yours again, this time his tongue finding your bottom lip. he hummed at the taste of your chapstick, sweet and smooth.

he was sucking the air out of you, it was hard to focus when his rough hands were so harshly trying to find your skin and his lips were molding with yours. sloppy and filled with pure lust. you didn’t want him to pull away, you wanted to suffocate against him. so your fingers traveled into his gorgeous hair and pulled him even closer.

it wasn’t possible to be any more closer than you already were but you couldn’t get enough.

he moaned into your mouth, and one of his hands came up from your hip and to your chin. he used his fingers to pry your mouth open that way he could taste more of you. the sweet cherry chapstick on your lips and the minty taste of gum on your tongue.

he pulled away, keeping his hand on your chin to tilt your head up to look at him. he was met with that cloudy glaze of your eyes and your swollen lips, shiny with saliva and agape to suck in short breaths. he placed his forehead against yours and swiped his thumb along your bottom lip.

you were trying to stand on the tip of your toes to meet his lips again but he only pulled back further every time you did.

“call me an asshole,” kiss. “but i don’t think i can leave you alone,”

you tugged at his hair causing him to wince, “i know,”

he could feel the way your heart was pounding against his chest, the way your legs were shaking, and the impatience grasping at him through your fingers. he was enraptured in the sight of you like this, the way he was the only one that could light the fire inside of you, and how that fire only burned for him.

he was the only one who could do this to you and both of you knew it.

he dipped down for another deep kiss, this time it wasn’t fast or sloppy. it was firm and slow. this time, you had time to catch up with his pace. slow and deep, you took time to taste him and he took time to taste you. wet smacks filled the room, along with the sound of heaving breaths.

he finally reached underneath your sweatshirt, slowly creeping up your stomach and then grabbing at your waist. he wanted to be slow. he wanted this to last. he wanted to show you just how much you meant to him.

“jump,”

and you did, wrapping your legs around his torso and locking your ankles. his hand reached out of the neck of your sweatshirt, splaying across the back of your head to keep your lips against his as he moved you across the room.

he kicked his chair out of the way and then leaned down to swipe all of his paperwork, including his computer, off of his desk. you winced at the sound of cups clattering and the way his computer hit the corner of his bed before falling to the ground.

he plopped you down onto the edge of his table, keeping one hand behind your head and one positioned beside you.

“you don’t know,” he breathed between kisses, “how bad i wanted to fuck you on this desk,”

his words sent a wave of pleasure through you, which only stimulated you further. you could feel the way your panties were sticking to your cunt and how every time he spoke your stomach burned. you were aching all over. you’ve been aching for a while.

“i need to see you,”

he was trying to be altruistic, he was trying to be patient but he wasn’t thinking. he could smell the arousal dripping off of you, the scent of your salty sweat mixed with your tangy-sweet perfume was making him drool.

you leaned away from him, grabbing at the hem of your sweatshirt before pulling it over your head. you were slow and deliberate, watching his eyes dart between your face and your bare skin. before you could even get the sweatshirt off your neck, you could feel his hands traveling up your sides and toward your breasts.

“no bra,” he pointed out, his breath wavering. you shivered as his fingers ghosted around your areolas. “you’re such a tease,”

the tips of his fingers were cold and you were sensitive, you dug your heels into his lower back, your whole body begging him for more. no matter if you won the bet or not, this was a much better outcome anyway. skin to skin. heavy breaths and passionate gazes.

you probably looked helpless. you were so turned on just by a guy groping at your chest. his thumbs rolled over your pebbled nipples, the sensation sending spikes of pleasure towards your core. you arched into him begging for more.

he placed a kiss on your collarbone, the kiss was soft and gentle but suddenly he opened his mouth and clamped down. he bit you and he bit you hard, hard enough to have you cry out his name in surprise. your fingers tangled in his hair, massaging at his scalp with the pads of your fingers.

his lips found your erect nipples, his hot tongue lapping over the sensitive tongue as a groan ripped from his throat. you shivered underneath him, a small whine leaving your lips as his other fingers rolled your other nipple between them.

his lips left your nipple with a pop and he blew cold air over the saliva he left on your skin. your nails dug into his scalp and he winced.

“i want you to take off your shorts and get yourself ready for me, ‘kay?” he whispered against your wound, his hot breath stinging where he had just bit you.

“why should i, hm?” you said even if you were going to play his game anyways.

you pushed away from him, moving further up the desk with your heels at the edge. he stepped back so that way he could see you and you could see him. he watched your chest rise and fall as you reached for the hem of your shorts.

you shimmied them off of your hips, leaving your panties on. pretty lavender panties, a bow right in the middle, and all lace except for the gusset.

a small laugh left his lips, “look how wet you are for me, slut,”

“asshole,” you spat as you kicked your shorts at him. the fabric slapped him in the cheek, and then fell to his feet. you couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips as you spread your legs for him.

you reached forward, grabbing Leon by the collar or his shirt before tugging him forward. you brought two fingers to his swollen lips to pry his mouth open. he gripped at the edge of the table while his other hand reached for your wrist.

“you’re testing me,” he crooned, tilting his head to the side before allowing you to slot two fingers into his mouth. his mouth was hot and wet, his strong tongue swirling around your fingers to get them as wet as possible.

he was so hard. all the blood that was supposed to be pumping to his brain was now pumping south, there wasn’t anything pure about him. his thoughts, his words, especially that look in his eyes. he released his grip from the table and reached for your free hand. he tugged you forward, guiding you to palm him through his pajama pants.

he groaned onto your fingers, “see what you do to me?” he hummed, craning his head to the side.

“mhmm,” you nodded.

he pulled your fingers out of his mouth and then guided them to the gusset of your panties.

“touch yourself, baby, let me see you,” he whispered and you were happy to oblige. he watched as you moved your panties to the side and he swears he’s never seen such a pretty pussy. plump lips and swollen clit, your hole dripping for him and glistening in the low light of his room.

“Leon,” you whined, squeezing at his girth as your wet fingers circled your clit. he moved your hand away from his cock, intertwining his fingers with yours and trapping your hand with his.

“i know, be patient baby and it’s all yours,” his voice was low and husky.

he watched you play with your clit, nimble fingers moving in small circles as your cunt clenched around absolutely nothing. he was just as impatient as you and as much as he wanted to pin you down and taste you for himself, he had to wait. he wanted to see you come undone right in front of him, he wanted to see how far he could push you before you break.

just like you broke him.

you traced circles around your cunt before you sunk your middle finger into you. the small stretch wasn’t enough but for some reason, it felt so good. it wasn’t enough to suffice your insatiable lust but it was what you’d been waiting for. your back arched and your hips bucked, a small gasp left your lips and you quickly shut yourself up by biting down on your bottom.

Leon’s glare wasn’t anything but predatory. the shadows on his face made the blue in his eyes almost indiscernible but you could see the hungry glint in them. his hand gripped yours tightly and his other hand coaxed at your outer thigh, rubbing and gripping at the fat to make sure your legs stayed open.

“good, good,” he said slowly, watching as you sunk another finger into your cunt. the stretch was so good but it wasn’t enough. you let out a heavy breath, your eyes squinting shut and your head rolling back.

“oh god, Leon,” you whined as you curled your fingers inside of you, the tips of your fingers barely reaching your g-spot, it wasn’t enough. you needed more. your fingers were too thin and too short, they couldn’t give you the amount of pleasure you were looking for.

Leon leaned forward, kissing at your skin and nipping at your collarbone. he knew how much you loved to wear those low-cut tops, he couldn’t wait to see you walk into class with hickeys and bites all over your chest that were from him.

“do you touch yourself like this when you think of me?” he heaved in your ear, his hand joining yours between your legs. you opened your lips to reply but only a small moan left when his two fingers pressed against your clit as your own were curling inside of you.

your hips bucked forward and you keened beneath him, trying to wriggle away from the overstimulation.

“answer me, baby,” he moaned, biting at your earlobe. you wanted to say no, you wanted to deny the fact that he was right. how you’d wake up in the middle of the night with your cunt aching to be touched. how you’d moan his name into your pillow as you ground down onto your fingers. how your dreams were filled with his touch and his voice. how the pleasure you gave yourself wasn’t anything compared to him.

“no, i don’t- agh!” he bit down on your earlobe as a warning.

“don’t lie,” he placed a kiss on your ear before moving down your neck. you shook your head as both his fingers and yours moved faster.

“okay yes, i do! so please…”

“good,”

you wanted to kill him, you wanted to kill him. he was driving you so crazy to the point every inch of your skin burned. his touch was so good, almost like a drug that numbed your entire body.

your jaw dropped open into a silent moan as one of his fingers moved from your clit and toward your hole. he pressed into your cunt, joining your two fingers, and the stretch burned.

“Leon!” you cried out, reaching up to grip his shoulder. he shushed you quietly, sweetly kissing the top of your head. you were quivering, adjusting to the way the sting burned but also reveling in the pleasure.

he worked his finger with yours, his finger was thicker and much longer and was able to reach that spot easily. you tried to clamp your legs shut, feeling overstimulated and hot but he was much stronger — only prying them open more every time.

“you can’t deny it,” he pressed a second finger into you, “you can’t get enough of me,” stars danced behind your eyes and a tear slipped down your cheek. it hurts to be stretched by not only your fingers but also his but it hurt so good.

the burn was slowly subsiding with each thrust of your fingers and the wet squelches only got louder. your lungs burned, you were finding it hard to breathe and every breath felt like you were sucking in fire. each thrust of his fingers and yours sent waves of pleasure through you.

he curled his fingers up against your g-spot and another cry left your lips. you were gripping at the collar of his shirt for your life, scratching at his neck and moaning his name over and over. he knew this feeling all too well, the trembling of your legs and the way you were clenching around your fingers.

“cum for me,”

he watched as your eyebrows furrowed as you bit down on your bottom lip. your toes curled and your thighs clamped together, a hot wave flashed through you as your knot snapped. you cried out a few expletives and came hard. your nails dug into his shoulder and your body curled into him.

you’ve never experienced such an orgasm unless it was with him. how easily he could make you drip and tremble, how hot he made you with just a glance, how easily he made you cum without even trying.

you looked so beautiful, coming undone on his fingers like that. you slumped against him, your cunt twitching around his fingers and small whines leaving your lips. your panties were soaked and you were spent, but he wasn’t done. he was far from done.

he slammed you down against the cold wood of the desk. the force knocked you awake and you arched your back away from the cold. his hands traveled under your thighs until he was holding the back of your knees. he spread your legs again until your glistening cunt was revealed to him once more.

your pussy was swollen, dripping from your previous orgasm and twitching with overstimulation.

“so proud of you,” he smiled, kissing your ankle. “don’t you think you deserve a reward?” he hummed.

he worked your panties off your legs, bunching them up into his fist before shoving them into the pocket of his pants. even though his pants were coming off soon, he couldn’t wait to reach back into them later and find your panties soaked with your essence.

it’s a little souvenir. one he’d stroke his cock to later on.

he continued kissing your ankle, absolutely enamored by every inch of you. your plump breasts that fit perfectly into the palm of his hand, your pretty cunt that responded so well to him, the juicy fat of your thighs, the way your ribs pocked out whenever you sucked in a deep breath.

he reached for the hem of his shirt, peeling it off of his sweaty skin and throwing it somewhere in the room. your hands reached to caress at his muscles, toned abs, and a sharp v-line. he was glistening with sweat, each vein popping out of his skin and his fair skin was as smooth as silk. he was beautiful, even if the words that he spat were sinful.

he had the face of an angel and the soul of a devil.

your feet worked at the hem of his pants, you were aching to feel his weight on top of you again. the heat of his body, the girth of his cock, and the stickiness of his skin and he must’ve seen it all painted across your visage. the hunger. the need. the desperation. it was all so raw and palpable.

“you act like you’ve never seen me before,” he grinned, tracing circles on your ankle with his thumb.

“i can say the same for you,” you smiled, finally getting his pants off the bones of his hips. you didn’t oversee the way he was watching you earlier, in a drunken state as he watched you delve into your desires — in a complete trance at the way your fingers moved in your cunt.

he worked the rest off, watching your hungry eyes follow his dropping pants. his cock sprung out and a small wince left his barred teeth as it slapped up against his stomach. he reached down and squeezed at the base of his cock, you watched as it twitched in his hold — slightly nervous. even though you’ve felt it before, his size will always intimidate you.

just like you’ll never get used to his beauty, you’ll also never get used to the size of him. veins wrapped around his girth and pre cum dripped from his hot red tip.

“like what you see?” he smiled, slapping the tip of his cock against your clit. you jolted with a small gasp leaving your lips. he moved the tip of his cock between your wet folds, spreading his precum over your labia and the hood of your clit.

your eyes stayed on his as his face came to hover over yours. he pressed a kiss to your lips, a deep and slow kiss. you wrapped your arms around him, trailing your fingers up and down his back. you opened your mouth allowing him to swipe his tongue against yours.

he wrapped an arm underneath your back, bringing you closer to him as his other hand guided his shaft through your wet, sticky lips. you shuddered at his tip nudging against your clit and you pulled away from the kiss, pressing your forehead against his.

his hair stuck to his forehead and his breath was heavy. he kept his face close to yours though he refused to kiss you, he wanted to watch your face as he fucked you. he wanted to see you, he wanted to memorize every way your face contorted, every noise you made, and every way you moaned his name.

“tell me if it hurts,”

you nodded, pressing your fingers into the muscles of his back to brace yourself. as one of his hands gripped the back of your knee, bringing your leg up higher, the other guided the tip of his cock into your dripping hole. both of your mouths dropped open, the feeling of your pussy swallowing his cock had his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

you sucked in a deep breath as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“so fucking tight,” he gasped out, his hand reaching up for yours. “i’ll treat you so good,” he breathed, opening his eyes to meet yours.

“i’ll treat you so good, so don’t ever leave me again,” with that, he thrust his way in, your whole body jolted and a sharp gasp left your lips. he buried himself to a tilt, making sure you were adjusted to his size before he moved any further.

“you never lost me, Leon,” your nails sunk into his back as his grip got tighter. you pressed your lips to his, swallowing every one of his labored breaths.

he slowly pulled out, until the tip of his cock almost left your cunt, before thrusting in hard. he continued this process, slow and deep thrusts, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix each time. the pressure of him pressing to your cervix pushed a small moan from your lips.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you moaned out, each word growing an octave higher. “faster, Leon, i’m begging you,”

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he sighed. his thrusts grew faster, the table underneath you squeaking and shaking. you arched up into him, moaning out his name with your teeth clenched. with each thrust of his cock, a small whine left your lips. his lips wrapped around one of your bouncing tits, sucking harshly at your perked nipples and savoring the taste of the sweat on your skin.

his rhythmic pace was almost punishing, you couldn’t catch a break or your breath but you loved it. you reached up into his hair, tangling your finger into his blonde strands as his teeth dragged and nipped at your sensitive nipple. you clenched down on him, dragging a wince out of his mouth.

the sound of skin slapping and wood creaking filled the room, his heavy grunts and your whiny moans were loud and the sounds tangled together like a lustful song. your mind was in mush, you couldn’t think of anything but him. Leon. Leon. Leon.

from the moment you met, it was all about him.

face. voice. body. and touch.

“it’s so good,” you cried, as a few tears slipped from the corner of your eyes. you could feel him in the pits of your stomach, that’s how deep he was. the slight curve of his cock was pressing up against your g-spot just right, it was enough to blur your vision and rip the air out of your chest.

you called out his name, wrapping one of your legs around his waist and your walls clenched down around him like a vice.

“don’t do that, baby,” he warned. he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily against your skin. “god, you’re so beautiful it hurts,” he groaned.

you were left breathless, you weren’t sure what to say or do. but your heart skips a beat every time he calls you beautiful in such a way. did he really mean it or was he just playing with you?

you were too caught up in the pure ecstasy and the pleasure to care about what your heart thinks. you were too busy soaking in each second that way you’ll never forget this feeling. this feeling of pure bliss and passion. it wasn’t only the sex but it was a deep connection that ran through the two of you.

“Leon, i’m- i can’t,” you cried. he placed a kiss on your cheek and then on your lips, his pace only increasing. the sound of creaking wood matched with the sound of slapping skin, a ring of white coated the base of his cock — pre cum mixed with the essence dripping from you.

“cum for me, please,”

he swallowed your mouth in a kiss, sucking on your bottom lip to the point it bruised. you held onto him for dear life, the familiar knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. he was the only one who was able to bring you from ashes to a grand flame, almost like a phoenix.

your desire for him ran deep and he knew every inch of your body like it was his own. he studied you and was able to figure out your puzzle. he could put you together and break you apart. that was the scary thing.

your body jolted as a wave of raw pleasure rushed through you, your toes curled and your thighs clamped around his torso. his name rolls off your tongue and onto his as you come undone, unraveling around him with his name on your lips. sweet as honey and thick as syrup.

he leaned over you, kissing your chin, and then at the corner of your lips. finally, his lips met yours. his cock was still pulsing inside of you, hard and hot. he continued to slowly roll his hips into you, easing you down from your high.

“you did so good, beautiful,” his praise did nothing but get you excited all over again. he wrapped your other leg around him and then his arms underneath you.

he carried you up off the table and then into his bed, you kept your legs wrapped around him until he laid you down into his sheets. you both were laid on your sides, arms wrapped around each other and legs entangled. he brought your leg around his waist, sinking his fingers into the fat of your thigh as he slowly began rolling his hips into yours again.

both of your mouths fell open into breathy moans, this new position allowed him to be so much deeper, the tip of his cock pressing to your cervix with each roll of his hips.

“you like that?” he heaved against your lips.

you nodded your head eagerly, his pace was slow but so good. he moved down, peppering your chest with kisses as one of his hands moved to massage the skin of your breasts with your nipple slotted between two of his fingers.

“you’re taking me so well, look at you,” he cooed, looking down at where your bodies intertwined. he watched his cock appear and disappear into your cunt, the juiced from your previous causing the skin of his cock to gleam. his balls were heavy with cum, every time he bottomed out into you they’d pressed against the round of your ass.

“Leon,” you moaned out, your voice breathless and low. you were so hot, your gummy walls clenching down on him with each small thrust.

you threw your head back, allowing him perfect access to your throat. he leaned up, away from your chest, kissing up the column of your throat before biting down hard into your skin. the feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin felt so good, it didn’t matter if it’d leave a mark or not.

you could stay like this forever, tangled in the sheets with him using your body for whatever he pleased, laying in the comfort of his arms as he coaxed you into your sweet dreams, surrendering your body to him in every way possible.

you were his, body, mind, heart, and soul.

he cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him. the blue hues of his eyes were beguiling, pulling you deeper and deeper into this trance where the only thing that existed was him. he was the puppeteer in charge of all your strings.

he wanted to possess you then he got what he wanted.

he rolled on top of you, using his knee to spread your legs even further. he cupped your jaw, bringing your lips to his once again. he could get drunk on the feeling and the taste of your warm lips on his. his thrusts were deep and languidly slow, to the point it was almost torture.

“it feels so good,” you gasped out against his lips.

he reached down between the two of your bodies, finding your swollen clit. he pinched down on the small nub earning him a cry of his name against his lips. you clenched down around him, gyrating your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“fuck, you’re going to make me cum,”

“inside,” you begged, intertwining your fingers with his.

you wanted to feel it. the raw feeling of him marking you as his and painting your walls with his burning seed was enough to have you keening. you bit down on his shoulder as your third orgasm washed over you. this one was stronger than the others, your vision went white and your body shook with vigor. tears of bliss rolled down into your hair and your body was on fire.

your moans were muffled from you biting down on his shoulder and you could vaguely taste the iron of blood spilling onto your tongue. as much as it hurt, the sting felt so good, just like the red lines down his back.

he wasn’t far behind you, his hand reaching up for his pillow as a low moan left his lips. he buried himself to a tilt, spilling his hot seed inside of you. thick ropes spilled into you, milky white and heavy. he shuddered on top of you, sent over the edge from the feeling.

he’s never cum like this before, instantly all the energy and adrenaline in his body were depleted. his taut muscles relaxed, his shoulders slumping and his forehead coming to press against yours.

you both lay there, soaking in the bliss as you sunk into each other slowly. your chest pressed to his with every breath you took, your arms draping around his shoulders lazily and your legs dropping from around his waist.

his lips found yours as he softened inside of you. his kiss was slow and deep, his hand cupping your jaw as you both moved in sync.

you weren’t good with words. neither of you were. but he hoped that he could convey a message to you through this. he wanted to know that he didn’t want to say goodbye, he didn’t care whether you were friends or lovers. as long as you were beside him, it didn’t matter.

you smiled into the kiss, “i won the bet but you got what you wanted,”

“well aren’t you glad you passed your exam? plus, i know you wanted this as much as i did,” he chuckled, bringing his hand up to your sweaty strands. he tucked your frizzy hair behind your ears, slowly so he could see you in all your glory. you were glowing and the apple of his eye.

“fine, you win, but i passed all on my own,”

he rolled to his side, bringing you along with him. he brought the covers over your hot bodies as you situated yourself onto his arm, using his firm muscle as a pillow. he brought your leg over his waist again, wanting to be as close as possible.

“you really wanted to get rid of me, huh?” he sighed, letting his eyes drop close just a bit. his other arm wrapped around your torso, tucking you close to him.

“not really, just wanted to prove myself to you,” he opened one of his eyes, squinting at you.

“so you admit that you didn’t want to get rid of me?”

your fingers were busy walking up his shoulder as the other was tucked close between your sweaty bodies. you pursed your lips, watching your fingers work as legs against his skin.

“yeah, i guess i’ve taken a liking to you,” you hummed, adjusting your head.

he opened both of his eyes and he was met with the same face he’s seen all this time. though, every time it’s a little different. at first, he thought you were a hindrance. you were a student who signed up for a stats course and didn’t bother to learn anything. then you were a friend that he could poke at and laugh at. now you’re a girl lying in his arms, a beautiful girl.

a beautiful girl, naked and underneath the sheets with him. your limbs are tangled together and with sticky skin pressed against one another.

he smiled, “yeah, i like you too,”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)

taglist

a/n : everyone cheered, V finally posted part two to her tutor fic. LOL,, the long awaited is here, sorry it took me 3 months lol but it's finally here. i want to thank all of you for all the love you showed part 1, i really hope this second part is up to your expectations :D!!

also, i'm pretty sure the photo i used of Leon for this fic is him and krauser ... that's all imma say

tags :

@xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk

@childchomper1 @porcelainseashore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00

@daervannafia @puppyina @prettyntxhee @leonkennedygvrl

@altissia-09 @leqonsluv3r @yuiopiklmn @folksriddle @squazmine

@its0214-am @xqlenkdy @belovedcloud

@beafart @admirxation @neverg0nnagivey0uup @fancyyme @marymustdie

@bloodstainedbandaid @jeonmochi99-blog @zizouu23 @d3adp00ls

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙎𝙄𝙓: Spit-Roasting w/ Spencer Reid [ft. Luke Alvez]

a/n: y'all this one actually FLABBERGASTED me... my mind will never fail to surprise me, and if i'm going to be honest, i listened to metal/heavy metal music the whole time and it helped me to stay focused for the actual hour it took me to write this 😭

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

A perfect sandwich is what you’d like to call this.

Cradled between the bodies of two of the hottest Agents of your team is a sure fire way to spend your night, and you’re more than pleased.

Spencer’s lying below you, your knees settled on either side of his hips as your lips are met in a heated embrace. You’re as naked as the day you were born and he is too, his hardness barely poking at your full stomach.

You’re bent over him with Luke behind you, a heavy hand pressing down your lower back as he works you open with two big fingers. You’re moaning helplessly into the genius’ mouth, your nails digging into the pillows besides his head.

“Luke!” You pull away with a breathless moan, throwing back your head at particularly hard drag to your g-spot. “‘Feel good, sweetheart?” You can hear the cocky lilt to his voice, his nice, full lips no doubtedly pulled up into that familiar, cheeky smirk.

“Fuck – you’re such an asshole.” You swear and he just chuckles. “Yeah, yeah, say that to me when I’m not knuckle deep inside you, ‘kay?”

You grumble, but nevertheless reconnect your lips with Spencer’s who are pulled taunt in an attempt to hide his amusement. “Don’t –” You choke when Luke begins to draw circles tightly on your clit.

“Don’t encourage him.” Your words trail off in a whine.

“Sorry, baby.” Spencer says, but he doesn’t even sound all that sorry, but you’ll make him. You prop yourself on your right forearm while the other one trails down to grasp at his long cock, up stroking him just to hear that pleasurable sound of the air getting punched out of him.

“Shit!” He swears, his own neck extending back, and you connect your lips to the tanned skin there, nibbling relentlessly.

“So much for no marks, huh?” Luke pokes from behind you. “Don’t act like you didn’t get your turn.” You mumble just loud enough for him to hear.

You make sure that Spencer’s skin is painted red by the time you pull away, your strokes matching each time you roll the delicate skin between your teeth.

“Stop, stop. Not gonna last long.” He removes your hand, and you huff.

“Get back here then, Spence.” Luke sounds. “She’s had a real smart mouth all night, might have to put it to good use, don’t you think?”

Spencer raises a brow at his dominance but agrees, “Alright.”

Your skin heats at the implications of his words, and you’re dragged by your hips, Luke rearranging you so that he can step in front of you. You squeak and your knees burn at the sheets rubbing them, but it makes you shiver.

They settle into their respective places, Spencer’s lithe, long fingers holding your waist deeply contrast the roughness that is Luke Alvez.

Your eyes rest on Luke’s large cock bobbing in front of you, and you raise a brow. “Why hello, big boy.” You murmur with a small smirk. Your eyes flutter upwards to meet his, and he’s looking at you expectantly.

It’s clear you’ve gotten on his nerves, and you can’t help the feeling of sick satisfaction that spreads throughout you. Normally, Luke’s gentle during your encounters together, two men softly worship your body.

But not tonight. Nay, tonight, you wanted it rough, you wanted it mean, you wanted it hard.

“You’re no fun.” You pout but, open your mouth to engulf it over his precum covered tip, digging your tongue into the slit of it. He grunts, large fingers winding themselves through your hair to anchor you to him.

Spencer caresses the skin of your waist all the way down the sides of your thighs before trialing up to spread your ass, watching as his long cock sinks into you.

“God,” He groans, “You feel perfect.” His head is bowed downwards a bit, his eyes screwed shut.

You’re no better, now feverishly licking at the pulsing skin of Luke’s dick, taking him down as far as you can – which sadly isn’t very far considering the sheer girth of the man – but you pick up where you lack by jerking him off.

Luke hisses, eyes practically boring into where your mouth connects to him, and he gives an experimental rock of his hips. You choke for a moment, and you pull off of him, understanding what he needs.

“Fuck my throat please.” It’s a needy mewl, and you retake him into your throat, sinking, sinking, sinking, waiting for him to catch up. “You already know what to do if it’s too much.” You just hum, gripping him by his muscular thighs.

Spencer begins to set a pace, and every time he pulls out, so does Luke, until they’re met up in perfect harmony with one another, using your body as they please. You’re moaning, and the noises that are leaving the three of you are downright sinful. If this was a porno, you’re sure you would make millions.

Tears burn in your eyes and spit foams at the corner of your mouth, but that doesn’t stop you from relaxing your throat to take in more of him. Spencer keeps hitting your g-spot with coordinated ease. He pretty much knows your body like the back of his hand.

You feel the coiling of your gut signaling your end, and your walls flutter around the older male behind you. Your breathing stutters and your nails dig into Luke’s thighs.

He’s pulsing in your mouth, and Spencer’s hips are stuttering, growing less deliberate and uncontrolled as he begins to grind into you. You disconnect from Luke’s cock, your chest heaving. A dribble of spit draws a bridge from your lips to his tip.

“‘M close, fuck, ‘m so close.” You cry out, and your head falls forward to land on the man’s firm stomach. Spencer begins thrusting into you faster.

“I got you, sweet girl. Just a little more.”

You’re jerking Luke off as fast as you can, and your wrist burns, but you pay it no mind as you lean up.

Luke is groaning something guttural, feral, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

“Cum on my face. Please… I need it.”

“Anything you want.” Is his grunted response.

The three of you are frantic in your movements, desperate to meet your ends.

Luke comes first, cum shooting out and hitting your lips and chin, as well as your eyelashes as he trembles and shakes, the hand on your head holding a death grip of your scalp.

Spencer’s next to follow, and a hand finds itself between the two of you to find your swollen clit, and rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, until you gush all over him with a loud cry that could practically be considered a scream.

It’s silent for a moment and you fall forward, chest heaving and finding solace in the cool feelings of the sheet contrasting with what of Luke’s skin.

“Everyone alright?” Luke is the first to ask.

“Just peachy.” You hum, wiggling to get comfortable as Spencer pulls out of you.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[clawsdevour]

꩜ ۫ ָ֢ kuroo nsfw hcs

wc: 0.4k content warning: post-time skip, smut basically.. lol, kuroo x reader, not proofread

note: this was part of a request and there might be a lot of grammar mistakes cuz im typing off of my phone since im currently still on vacay!!

☆*:.｡.🐈‍⬛

-Kuroo likes to plant his warm sloppy kisses on your stomach, moving down towards your inner thighs, then ankles before spreading them open to look at his beady eyes that look like they’ve been starving for years.

-Kuroo likes to swirl his thumb around your swollen clit to stimulate you while you feel his deep thrusts grow into you. He’d speed up his thumb to match the pace of his hips that rock into yours while you pur out his name in between moans.

-Kuroo likes to be the one to move your head up and down on his cock, holding back tears while feeling him poke at the back of your throat. Despite all the squelching sounds your mouth creates, through the noise he’s praising you for taking it so well.

-Kuroo likes to watch you squirm around while you moan out how good he makes you feel. He’s proud of every mark you leave on him. This can be a small red hickey left on his neck or even a scratch or two on his broad back.

-Kuroo likes to get home early from an important event to come fuck you from the thought of missing you. He’s thinking about how good you would’ve looked if you were invited to the event, driving him insane.

-Kuroo likes to have his big hands on your hips, helping you thrust his dick into you. Growing bigger each time he watches your tight cunt swallow his dick with each bounce with your hands on his chest for support.

-Kuroo likes to enjoy making you watch him stroke his dick before letting you touch it. He likes making you resist him, fueling his imagination that makes him get off even more because of how you wanna be the one to jerk him off.

-Kuroo likes to place your hand onto your stomach. He does this because he wants you to feel his every thrust through pressing down softly on your stomach. He also likes to do this because it makes you squeeze around him a bit more since you’re also able to feel that sensation from the pressure of both of your hands.

-Kuroo likes to tightly grip onto both of your hands and put them above your head while he fingers you towards your unbearable climax. He grows harder seeing you able to chase your release by just using his fingers.

-Kuroo likes to sleep with your back against his chest after he’s cleaned you up and changed the sheets. He loves fondling with your tits under your shirt, enjoying the soft plush skin in between his fingers as his other hand pulls and teases your nipples making you rub your legs while he gently chuckles in your ear.

masterlist here